The Long Road Back
by ColHogan
Summary: Hogan tries adjusting to being in a wheelchair after an explosion in the tunnel paralyzed him below the waist.As he struggles to continue leading his unit,he decides to resign his command and have someone else take over. Can the heroes change his mind?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Hogan's Heroes. This story is strictly for the enjoyment of others. Is the sequel to A LIFE BLOWN APART. The characters of Sergeant Christopher Tucker and Corporal Martin Benson are my own.

**The Long Road Back**

**Chapter 1**

"Raus! Everybody fall out for roll call! All prisoners out of the barracks!" Schultz's loud voice boomed.

The men of Barracks two exited the barracks into the bright sunshine. The last man to leave the barracks was Colonel Robert Hogan. Gripping the wheels of his wheelchair, Hogan maneuvered his chair out of the door and into his usual spot in the formation. Since the explosion in the tunnels which had left him paralyzed below the waist three weeks ago, Hogan had struggled to maintain his position as Senior POW officer. It hadn't been easy. Despite his injury, Hogan felt at times he was completely in control. At others, like now, he felt completely out of control. He massaged his forehead as a headache was beginning.

"Colonel Hogan?"

Hogan looked up at Schultz. The rotund Sergeant was looking at him, concerned.

"Yeah, Schultz?"

"Are you all right, Colonel Hogan? You don't look well."

"I'm okay, Schultz. Just tired. I don't get around as well as I use to." Hogan patted the wheels on his wheelchair.

"Schultz! Repooooorrrrrttttt!" Kommandant Klink's voice was heard as he approached.

Schultz turned and saluted the Kommandant.

"Herr Kommandant, all prisoners present and accounted for."

Klink saluted his Sergeant. "Very good, Schultz. You can dismiss your prisoners."

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant." Schultz turned towards the prisoners. "Dissssmmissssed!"

As the prisoners dispersed, Klink found himself watching his Senior POW officer. He noticed Hogan didn't seem his usual self, and hadn't been the same since his injury, even though he tried hard to cover it.

"Colonel Hogan, a moment please," Klink said softly.

Hogan turned his wheelchair around and faced Klink. "You wanted something, Kommandant?" he asked.

"Yes, Hogan. It seems to me that you have not been quite yourself since your injury. Are you feeling all right?"

Hogan sighed. He wasn't in the mood to play twenty questions with Klink. "I'm not sure, Kommandant. How am I suppose to feel being confined to this chair? Please tell me."

Klink didn't respond. He didn't know what to say. It was obvious to him that Hogan was having a hard time adjusting to his situation. If he could only think of some way to help him.

"Colonel Hogan, I'd like to speak with you in my office, if you please." Klink turned and waited for Hogan to join him.

Sighing with obvious annoyance, Hogan maneuvered his chair and followed Klink to his office. As Klink walked up the steps, Hogan hesitated at the bottom of the wheelchair ramp. He hadn't used it but one time and he had difficulty getting his chair up the ramp alone. He didn't move.

"Kommandant?" he said.

Klink turned. "What is it, Hogan? Are you coming or...oh. Just a minute." Klink walked back down the stairs, and gripping the back of the wheelchair, wheeled Hogan up the ramp and into his office. Once inside, he positioned Hogan's chair so that he faced his desk before Klink himself sat behind it.

"Now, Colonel Hogan, it's apparent you are not all right, despite what you tell me. Is there anything I can do for you to help you?"

"Unfortunately, the one thing you could do for me you can't. So, to answer your question...no, there's nothing you can do to help me."

Klink sadly shook his head. "Hogan, there must be **something** that I can do. Just tell me what it is."

"There's nothing." Hogan eased his chair away from the desk. "Can I go now?"

"Yes, Hogan," Klink said sadly. "You are dismissed." He saluted Hogan who gave a sloppy salute in return. Hogan then opened the door to Klink's office and tried to hold it open and maneuver his chair through it at the same time. He was rapidly becoming frustrated.

Klink jumped to his feet and held the door open. He watched as Hogan wheeled himself out the door into the waiting room. Closing his office door, Klink folded his arms and made his way to the window. Opening it, he watched Hogan roll his chair down the ramp and head across the compound in the direction of Barracks two. This Hogan **definitely** was not the same man he knew prior to the accident. Klink felt he had to find someway to help him. But how?

Hogan could feel Klink's eyes on him even though he had his back to him. As Hogan was halfway to the barracks, he noticed Kinch coming towards him. Hogan's eyes were bright with unshed tears as the radioman got behind him and started pushing the wheelchair the rest of the way to the barracks.

"I'm sorry, Colonel," Kinch said. "If I had known Klink wanted you to come to his office I would have..."

Hogan swallowed the lump in his throat. "It's okay, Kinch," he said, his voice strained. "I can't expect you to be my nursemaid. I have to be able to do things myself only in a different way."

"I don't mind, Colonel. None of us do. We're glad to do it."

Hogan turned his upper body enough to allow him to look at Kinch over his shoulder. "Don't you know better than to try and con your commanding officer, Sergeant?"

Kinch stopped. Walking around the wheelchair he knelt down on one knee and looked Hogan directly in the eyes. He could see the emotional pain the Colonel was feeling. He only wished Hogan would talk about how and what he was feeling. If not with him, then with somebody. "Colonel. I'm not trying to con of us mind picking up the slack until you get better." He watched Hogan hang his head as he let out a deep breath. "Colonel, what's wrong? Talk to me."

Hogan didn't raise his head, nor did he look at his radioman. "Kinch," he said softly. "I want you to send a message to London."

"Okay, Colonel, sure. What do you want me to tell them?"

"Tell London...effective immediately...I'm resigning my command of this unit at Stalag 13 and to send a replacement to take over."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"The Colonel said **what?!**" LeBeau asked, stunned, when Kinch repeated what Hogan had said as he, Newkirk, Carter, Kinch and Chris Tucker all sat at the long table. Kinch and Tucker were drinking coffee, Newkirk was smoking a cigarette. Hogan had gone into his quarters and closed the door with orders he was to be left alone.

"Are you sure you heard the Colonel right, Kinch?" Newkirk asked, equally stunned.

"I heard him right, all right. He wants to resign his command and have London send someone else to take over this unit."

"We can't let him do that," LeBeau remarked. "The Colonel's not thinking straight right now. He needs time."

"Yeah, well..." Tucker said, sighing. "London taking blowing up that 'munitions train assignment away from the Colonel didn't help any. And especially after he had everything planned."

"You got that straight, mate," Newkirk took a drag on his cigarette. "They shoulda known how that would affect the Colonel especially given his circumstances."

"Oui," LeBeau agreed. "The Colonel became depressed after that. He probably believes London feels he can't do the job anymore because of his circumstances. And if London believes Colonel Hogan can't do the job anymore, then the Colonel believes he can't either."

"So what are we gonna do?" asked Carter, concerned. "We can't let Colonel Hogan give up and resign his command."

"I'll tell you what we're **not** gonna do," said Kinch. "And that's contact London and send that message the Colonel wants me to send."

The others looked at Kinch. They all nodded in agreement with his decision to hold off on sending Hogan's message to London for as long as possible.

Tucker shook his head, worried. "We better come up with something to tell the Colonel should he ask what London's response was to his message. And it better be something he won't question."

"I'll just tell him London wants to review everything before they decide whether or not to accept his resignation."

"I also think we should talk with Wilson," LeBeau added. "He might know what we can do for the Colonel."

Sergeant Joe Wilson was the camp medical officer in Stalag 13. He came immediately to Barracks two upon hearing from Tucker about Hogan's depression and desire to resign his command. All Wilson could do was shake his head sadly. He had treated and cared for Hogan from the moment the Colonel had been injured in the tunnel explosion, and after a long and difficult time of helping the Colonel through his constantly changing emotions, thought that Hogan was over the worst of it and was accepting of his circumstances. He was even somewhat pleased when Hogan and his men were preparing for a mission. But then, to Wilson, the worst possible thing happened, and that was London taking the assignment away from the Colonel and his men. He was aware that Hogan had spiraled into a depression shortly after that, but he seemed to be handling it. At least he thought Hogan was.

Wilson sat down at the table with the others. LeBeau poured him a cup of coffee.

"How's the Colonel, Kinch?" he asked, concerned.

"I gather Chris told you the Colonel wants me to contact London and tell them he wants to resign his command and have them send someone to replace him."

"And his depression began after London took the assignment away from him?"

Kinch nodded. "In the beginning, the Colonel looked like he was dealing with it. But I guess he really wasn't."

Wilson sighed wearily. "What was London thinking?" he asked no-one in particular. "They should have given the Colonel a chance after all he's done for them." He took a drink of coffee.

"You'd think so, wouldn't you, mate?" Newkirk smirked. He lit another cigarette.

"Something else you should know, Joe," Kinch added. "We decided not to send the Colonel's message to London. At least not yet, anyway. If he should inquire about it, we're gonna tell him London wants to review everything before making a decision."

Wilson nodded slowly. "I think that's wise. The Colonel shouldn't be making any hasty decisions right now. Especially ones he might regret making later on."

"Is there anything we can do for him to help him?" asked LeBeau, worry etched on his face.

Wilson sighed. "He's got to work through it. But all of you should be there for him and help him any way you can. It sounds to me as if Colonel Hogan hasn't really accepted his being paralyzed yet. And London, in their own infinite wisdom, taking the assignment away from him was like telling him they don't think he can do the job anymore. And unfortunately, this action now has Hogan believing it too." He finished his coffee. "Where is the Colonel?"

Newkirk motioned with his head towards the Colonel's closed door. "He's in his quarters. He went in there and asked us to leave him alone."

Wilson got to his feet. "I'll try talking with him." That said, the medic approached the closed door and knocked. He got no answer. Shrugging his shoulders, Wilson gripped the doorknob and turned it. The door opened. Looking in, Wilson spotted Hogan, seated in his wheelchair staring out the open window.

Hearing the door open, Hogan looked over his shoulder.

"I expected you'd show up sooner or later, Joe," Hogan said, half-jokingly. He turned the wheelchair around so he could face Wilson. "I suppose one of my men told you of my decision?"

"Yes, Colonel. And I think you're rushing things. While it's true the swelling in your lower back hasn't gone down much in the past three weeks to make any difference right now, it will continue to go down. And once it goes down completely, then we should know whether or not you'll walk again."

"And how long will that take, Joe? A month? Six months? A year? Never?" Hogan rubbed his eyes before again looking at the medic."Look, I'm barely hanging on as a Senior POW officer. And London already believes I can no longer do the job I was sent here to do when I was assigned here to lead this unit in sabotage, espionage and helping downed flyers escape."

Wilson shrugged. "Does London know everything? No. They're not here with you. They have no idea as to whether or not you can still do the job. Your mistake, Colonel, is that you believe London must know you better than you know yourself."

"But what if London's right this time, Joe? What if I can't do the job anymore because of my condition? I can't and won't jeopardize my men by trying to do something I no longer can."

Wilson sighed. "You have to give yourself time, Colonel," he said softly. He smiled slightly. "Not everything happens when you want it to, Colonel Hogan. And I've known you long enough to know you're not a patient man. But this time, you must be."

"Did Kinch send my message to London?"

"Yes. He didn't want to, but he did as you requested."

"And...?"

"London told him they want to review everything before they decide whether or not to accept your resignation." Wilson hoped he sounded sincere enough to fool Hogan. He knew the Colonel had a sixth sense when it came to knowing when people were either lying to or withholding things from him. Fortunately, he didn't have long to wait to find out.

Hogan sighed wearily. "I hope they don't take too long with their decison. The sooner someone else is in charge of this unit the better it'll be."

Wilson shook his head sadly. "Is that what you really want, Colonel? To see LeBeau, Carter, Kinch and Newkirk under the command of someone else? These men are fiercely loyal to you. Do you really think they'd accept someone else being in command other than you?"

"They'll get use to it. They're all good men."

"Won't you at least reconsider and give yourself more time, Colonel?" asked Wison.

"It's better this way, Joe," Hogan replied. "The sooner someone else is in charge the quicker this unit can function again as it's suppose to."

Kinch, Carter, Tucker, LeBeau and Newkirk were all growing edgy waiting for Wilson to leave Hogan's quarters and tell them what happened. At the same time, they were all racking their brains trying to think of some way they could help Colonel Hogan.

"Wait!" Kinch slapped his hand on the table. "I have an idea that might work if it's carried out carefully."

"Well," said Newkirk, "Are you gonna keep the bloody idea to yourself or let us in on it?"

"Look, London obviously believes Colonel Hogan can't do the job anymore and that's what he believes as well. Right?"

"Right," Carter replied, confused.

"So why don't we come up with a mission of our own that the Colonel will have to use his mind and come up with a plan to carry out. This will **have** to prove to him he can **still** do the job and hopefully convince London as well."

There was excited talk amongst all the men all at once.

"Kinch, you're a ruddy genius, you are!" exclaimed Newkirk.

"Colonel Hogan couldn't do any better himself, mon ami," said, LeBeau, admiringly.

"Boy, he sure couldn't," chimed in Carter.

"Just one thing," said Tucker. "I'm all for this. But this mission we come up with will have to be carefully planned to fool Colonel Hogan who's not an easy man to fool. Any ideas?"

"Give me some time," Kinch told him with a slight smile. "And I'll come up with something that'll even make Colonel Hogan proud. And maybe the underground might help as well."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Wilson sadly closed the door to Hogan's quarters and approached the table where the men still sat, chatting about Kinch's idea as to how to help the Colonel. He dejectedly sat down and ran a hand over his hair.

"Well?" Kinch asked after awhile.

"The Colonel is determined to resign his command," said Wilson, finally. "I couldn't talk him into giving himself more time. He believes the sooner someone else is in charge, the sooner this unit can begin to function the way it used to." Wilson let out a deep breath. "It's like he's given up on himself," he added. "And London's to blame for that. If they just hadn't taken that assignment away from him." He rested a hand on Kinch's arm. "By the way," he said, "I told the Colonel you sent his message to London even though you really didn't want to. When he asked me what London's reply was, I told him they said they'd have to review everything before rendering their decision."

The men exchanged looks.

"Do you think he believed you?" asked Carter.

Wilson shrugged. "With Colonel Hogan one really can't be sure. I think he did. At least he seemed to. He didn't question it."

The men let out a collective sigh of relief at this news. Then Kinch licked his suddenly dry lips before explaining what they had decided to do to try to help the Colonel.

"We think we might have a way to help Colonel Hogan," he said softly.

Wilson looked at each man separately. "What have you got in mind?" he asked, his interest piqued.

"We decided to create a mission of our own with possibly the help of the underground," Kinch explained. "It will have to be something that will arouse the Colonel's interest and force him to come up with a plan of his own in order to pull off the mission successfully."

"Oui. We figure this way the Colonel will get his confidence back when he sees a plan of his work successfully. And maybe this will make him change his mind about resigning his command."

"And hopefully it will also show those in charge in London that Colonel Hogan can still lead this unit effectively," Newkirk added.

The men all looked at Wilson who appeared to be mulling over their idea. After awhile...

"It could work," he agreed. "But it'll have to be carefully planned. Colonel Hogan is not an easy man to fool."

"Oui, we know," LeBeau remarked. "That is why we are going to think long and hard before putting our plan into action."

"Count me in, then," Wilson replied with a slight grin. "Anything you need me to do just tell me."

"Thanks, Joe," Kinch said. He looked at his watch. "I'd better make contact with the underground and let them know what's happening with the Colonel and what we're gonna try to do, and that we'll probably need their help in doing it." He got up and went to the bunk in the corner and slapped the upper bedframe. The lower bunk raised up to reveal the tunnel entrance as a ladder dropped down. Kinch disappeared down the ladder. Carter got up and stood watch at the barracks door.

Wilson looked at his own watch. "I'd better get going," he said, getting up. "If the Colonel should catch me here he might become suspicious. He already asked me if one of you men told me about his decision to resign. I told him yes." That said, the medical officer left the barracks, promising the men he'd keep in touch.

Several minutes after Wilson had left the barracks, the door to Hogan's quarters opened. Hogan wheeled himself into the barracks area. Looking around, he immediately noticed Kinch wasn't to be seen.

"Where's Kinch?" he asked.

"He's checking his radio equipment," said LeBeau. "Also, I guess he wanted to see if London has responded to your message, Colonel."

"Would you care for some coffee, sir?" asked Tucker, rising from his seat.

Hogan let out a deep sigh. "I guess so, Sergeant," he replied.

Tucker went to the window sill and, grabbed Hogan's coffee cup, poured a full cup of coffee and handed the cup to the Colonel.

Hogan sipped at the warm liquid. "I suppose you men all know about my decision to resign my command of this unit," he replied sadly, looking at each man individually.

"Oui," LeBeau remarked, dejectedly. "We wish you would reconsider, Colonel. London doesn't know you like we do."

"Louie's right, Colonel," Newkirk replied lighting a cigarette. "The brass in London has no idea how effectively you can lead this unit. All they see are the end results."

"Newkirk's right about that, Colonel," Carter turned his head enabling him to look at his commanding officer. His eyes were bright with unshed tears. "London doesn't have any idea of the kind of commanding officer you are, sir. All they care about is getting the job done. But I notice they never seem to question you on how you get that job done. Only that you do."

Hogan stared into his coffee cup, his eyes misting over. "I appreciate what you guys are trying to do. But I think it's better this way. You guys will have a new commanding officer who can get the job done better than I can because he won't be..." Hogan paused, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. "...you men will be all right."

"But Colonel," Tucker began, "London doesn't..."

Hogan held up a hand. "London just might be right this time, Chris. They pointed out that fact to me without actually saying so when they took that assignment away from us. You think that would've happened if I still had the use of my legs?"

"But, Colonel..." Newkirk began.

Hogan sighed. "Look. Everything will be all right. All of you will be all right." He let a faint smile appear on his face. "Just promise me you'll all keep in touch and let me know how you all are. Of course it'll have to be in code."

"But what will you do, Colonel?" asked LeBeau. "I mean, will you stay in the army?"

"I don't know, LeBeau. I doubt there's room for a crippled Colonel as far as piloting a bomber goes." He then shrugged. "Perhaps I'll be assigned to desk duty."

"Desk duty?!" Carter yelled loudly. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"I won't have many options open to me, Carter. If desk duty doesn't work, I guess I'll have to consider retirement from the army. Besides, whatever happens, I want you men to promise me you'll work with and be as loyal to your new commanding officer as you are to me." Hogan found himself biting his lower lip as he tried to keep from breaking down in front of his men. "Besides, it's apparent London doesn't want me leading this unit anymore because of my paralysis."

"But Colonel Hogan, sir," Carter licked his lips. "We don't care if London doesn't want you leading this unit. **We** want you."

Hogan hung his head as a single tear ran down his face. "Carter, you're not making this any easier for me," he said, his voice cracking, without looking up.

"I don't want to make it easier for you, sir," Carter said. "**We** don't want you to go. You're needed here."

Lifting his head, Hogan looked at each man separately as they each spoke.

"What he said, mon Colonel," LeBeau said softly as tears were rolling down his own cheeks.

Tucker was silent. He stared at the table.

"Please, Gov'nor," Newkirk added. He swallowed to keep the threat of breaking down under control.

Hogan pushed his wheelchair away from the table. "I can't," he said softly. "It's better this way for everybody involved." He glanced at Tucker. "Chris, I'll need you to help me in my quarters. I think I'll turn in."

Silent, Tucker got to his feet and pushed Hogan's wheelchair in the direction of his quarters. Once inside, Tucker closed the door behind him.

Alone with Tucker in his quarters, Hogan, bowing his head and covering his eyes with his hand, lost it completely. All Chris Tucker could do was listen to the Colonel's sobs of anguish wrack his entire body.

Kinch emerged from the tunnel and caught his breath at the sight that met his eyes. Slapping the bedframe again, he watched as the lower bunk dropped down. He then approached his friends.

"What happened after I left?" he asked, concerned. "Did something happen to Colonel Hogan?" LeBeau proceeded to repeat what had occured to the radioman. All Kinch could do was shake his head in dismay.

"Sounds like the Colonel is wrestling with his decison in some way," he said quietly.

Newkirk puffed on his cigarette. "You're right there, mate," he replied. "But it sounds more like the Gov'nor feels like he has to resign when perhaps he doesn't really want to."

"What did the underground say, Kinch?" asked Carter, rejoining the others at the table and hoping to change the subject just a bit.

"I explained everything to our contact in the underground," Kinch explained. "He said the underground will do whatever we ask if it'll help the Colonel. I told them we'll be in touch once we come up with a plan."

"Well, we better come up with something soon," Newkirk told everyone. "I don't know how long we can keep putting off the Colonel about London's response to his message which wasn't sent."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Chris Tucker quietly closed the door to Hogan's quarters. Letting out a deep sigh, he stood outside the door before making his way to the table where the others were still seated. He stopped long enough to grab a coffee cup off the table and pour the last of the leftover warm coffee. He then sat down.

The others exchanged concerned looks.

"Is Colonel Hogan okay?" Carter finally asked.

Tucker, staring into his coffee cup, spoke softly with out looking up. "He cried," he said. He then looked up and into each man's eyes. It was apparent to each of them that Tucker had been deeply impacted by whatever had taken place in Hogan's quarters. "He actually broke down and cried. I've never seen the Colonel break down like that over anything."

"Gee," Carter hung his head. "You don't suppose we might be doing the wrong thing by trying to force Colonel Hogan to stay, do you?"

Newkirk stared at the cigarette he was putting out. He shrugged his shoulders and spoke softly without looking up. "Maybe we are," he said. "After hearing about what happened, I'm not so sure anymore. I mean, maybe we should let Colonel Hogan be sent home back to the states." Newkirk looked around. "What do you mates think?"

Kinch pursed his lips. "If memory serves, I think there's something in the Geneva Convention about if a prisoner is disabled with no chance of recovery within a year, he could be repatriated back to the country of his birth or citizenship. And the Colonel certainly meets the criteria." Kinch looked to his left. "Carter?"

"I'm kinda torn," the young Sergeant replied. "I mean, on the one hand, I feel Colonel Hogan should go home where he could maybe get the care he needs. But on the other hand, I don't want to see him go." Carter looked across the table at LeBeau. "What do you think, Louie?"

LeBeau bit his lower lip as he fought the tears he felt coming on. "I'm torn as well, Andrew," he said. "On the one hand, I agree the Colonel would receive better care in the states or in London than he would in Germany. But, like Carter, I don't want to see him leave."

Tucker took a deep breath before finally speaking. "The one thing that bothers me is Klink will probably agree to send the Colonel back home if he thinks its the right thing to do. But, is there any guarantee the Colonel would actually **make** it back home. I mean, he has enemies here who might not want to see him leave Germany so easily."

"You mean like Hochstetter," Kinch suggested.

"Or even Burkhalter," Carter suggested.

"But **especially** Hochstetter," Kinch said. "He's been after the Colonel for a long time trying to prove he's responsible for acts of sabotage in this area. Do you believe for one minute if he knew the Colonel was being sent back to the states he wouldn't try to stop it, but might even try to arrest the Colonel?"

"Yeah," Carter agreed. "He might figure it would be his last chance to get Colonel Hogan on something...anything...as long as it kept the Colonel from leaving Germany until he was either through with him or...or..." He didn't finish his sentence, but the others knew what he was going to say.

"Hochstetter doesn't give a damn about the Geneva Convention," Kinch added softly. "He only cares about one thing. And that's proving Colonel Hogan guilty of espionage and sabotage against the Third Reich. Nothing else matters to him."

"Oui," LeBeau agreed. "I don't know if there are different camps where prisoners-of-war with disabilities can get special treatment if they need it, but if there was one, and the Colonel was sent there, and Hochstetter found out, there would be no way we could help the Colonel from here. He'd be alone."

"You're right about that, mate," Newkirk lit a cigarette. "And Hochstetter is a nasty one to tangle with. Especially when he's provoked. I mean, the Colonel's found that out on more than one occasion."

LeBeau looked around the table. "It sounds pretty much like the decison's been made."

"I guess it has, LeBeau," Tucker remarked quietly.

"What was the decision?" asked Carter, somewhat confused.

Kinch looked at the young Sergeant. "We help Colonel Hogan regain his confidence by setting up a mission of our own and have him come up with a plan to carry it out. After that, we have to wait and see what the Colonel will do."

"And after that, what if the Colonel still decides to leave?" asked Carter. "What do we do then?"

Kinch sighed. "We wish him well, let him return to the states, and hope he can fully recover in time."

"And try to carry on either without him or with a new commanding officer," Tucker added.

"Does anybody have a plan yet?" asked Carter quietly. "I mean, what is our mission going to be?"

"No ideas yet, Andrew," Kinch replied looking into and seeing the sadness in Carter's eyes. He understood how the young Sergeant felt.They all felt the same way. But they all knew it wasn't fair to try and force Hogan to stay in Germany. All they could do was help the Colonel regain his confidence and see what happens after that. Kinch looked at his watch. It was getting late.

"We'd better turn in," he told them. "Roll call's in a couple of hours and we all need to get some sleep. It's been a hell of a day up to this point. And I've got to speak with Klink after roll call."

"What for?" LeBeau asked, confused. "What has he got to do with any of this?"

"Well, for one thing, Klink had the Colonel come to his office earlier today after roll call. And It was afterwards that the Colonel asked me to send that message to London about his resignation. I want to see if I can find out what took place in Klink's office between him and the Colonel. And two, I want to see what the Kommandant is going to do as far as Colonel Hogan is concerned as a result of that meeting."

The next morning the men of Barracks two stood in formation in the warm morning sunshine. Colonel Hogan was in his usual place, but staring into space. However, he was aware of Schultz counting each prisoner and of the Kommandant leaving his office, walking down the stairs and approaching Schultz. _Must be nice to be able to have the use of your legs, Klink,_ Hogan told himself with a pang of envy.

Schultz saluted. "Herr Kommandant. All prisoners present and accounted for."

"Very good, Schultz." Klink and Hogan exchanged looks. To Klink, Hogan looked completely disinterested in the goings on around him. Klink could only shake his head sadly. He had as yet been unable to come up with an idea to help his Senior POW officer. Also, he was trying not to have to make arrangements to have Hogan sent elsewhere. He felt Hogan could be productive even in his current limited status. Also, Klink admited to himself, he would miss the brash young American Colonel if he was gone. But an inner voice kept telling Klink that Hogan would get better in time. He was aware of the Annex to the Geneva Convention, Section A, item 1, which stated that 'sick and wounded pows whose recovery within one year is not probable according to medical prognosis, requires treatment, and whose bodily powers appear to have undergone a considerable diminution were eligible to be sent back to their country of birth or citizenship.' And based on the medical information he had been given so far, the indication that once the swelling had gone down completely, a decision as to whether or not Hogan would walk again would be made. And Klink wanted to give his Senior POW officer every chance before the end result to send him someplace else had to be made.

Klink saluted his Sergeant-at-arms. "You may dismiss your men, Schultz," he said.

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant." Schultz turned to the prisoners. "All prisoners are dissssmisssed."

As the men began to disperse, Kinch stepped forward. "Kommandant Klink, sir?"

Hearing his name, Klink stopped and turned. He found Kinch approaching him. "What is it, Sergeant Kinchloe?"

"Can I speak with you in your office, sir?"

"Sergeant, I'm know you're aware you must go to Colonel Hogan with your concerns, and he then comes to me with them."

From a distance, Hogan was watching Kinch and Klink with piqued interest. He wondered what this was about, even though he had a suspicion as to what it was about. He also felt the eyes of LeBeau, Carter and Newkirk watching him even though they were behind him close to the barracks.

Kinch licked his lips before continuing. "Kommandant, Colonel Hogan is who I want to talk to you about."

Klink glanced at Hogan and noticed him watching them. He then turned to Kinch. "Follow me to my office, Sergeant." Klink then abruptly turned and walked back to his office with Kinch closely following him.

Inside the Kommandant's office, Klink motioned for Kinch to have a seat. The radioman sat down and waited for Klink to sit behind his desk.

Seated, Klink clasped his hands together atop his desk. He looked directly at the radioman. "Now, Sergeant Kinchloe, what exactly did you wish to discuss about Colonel Hogan?"

"Well, sir, we're worried about the Colonel. We know he met with you yesterday and I was hoping you'd let me know what both of you talked about. Y'see, we're trying to find a way to help the Colonel adjust."

Klink sighed wearily. He could see the worry in Kinch's eyes. It mirrored his own. "I'm very worried about Colonel Hogan, Sergeant," he said. "I've been trying to find a way to help him before it becomes necessary to have him sent someplace else where a disabled pow can be cared for properly, for lack of a better word."

"Did the Colonel say anything in particular, Kommandant?"

Klink shrugged his shoulders. "Not really, no. I asked him if there was anything I could do for him and he said no. However..." he paused as if a thought had just occured to him.

"However what, Kommandant?" asked Kinch, now curious.

"The way Hogan was talking, I got the impression he hasn't really accepted his new condition despite what he says. Has he said anything to any of you men?"

Kinch sighed. "Not really. He hardly says anything. Most of the time he stays in his quarters with the door closed."

Klink nodded. "Perhaps he needs to feel he can still function as the ranking POW officer?"

"Perhaps," Kinch said. "Any idea how we can help him, sir? I mean, none of us really want to see the Colonel leave."

"I haven't come up with anything yet, Sergeant Kinchloe. However, if I do, I will let you know. Also, I would appreciate the same if you come up with anything."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Kinch stood up and saluted Klink who returned the salute. As Kinch started towards the door...

"Sergeant Kinchloe..."

Kinch paused and turned. "Yes, Kommandant?"

"If we put our heads together, I'm sure we can come up with a way to help Colonel Hogan and pull him through whatever he's going through before a decision neither of us wants has to be made. But I promise you this. I will try to keep that decision from being made for as long as I possibly can. Dismissed!"

Kinch exited Klink's office and headed towards the barracks to update the others.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

By the time Kinch had returned to the barracks, he was met by Colonel Hogan who was studying him with an angry and hurt look on his face. LeBeau was busy preparing breakfast while Newkirk and Carter were seated at the table playing gin.

"What was that with Klink after roll call this morning, Kinch?" Hogan asked,not trying to hide his feelings.

Kinch was caught off guard by the question. His eyes darted around the barracks. Neither LeBeau, Newkirk and Carter stopped what they were doing.

"I'm waiting, Kinch."

"It was nothing important, Colonel. Really."

"Nothing important? Are you trying to undermine me as Senior POW officer, Sergeant?"

Now LeBeau, Carter and Newkirk all stopped what they were doing to watch and listen. They all knew the Colonel never referred to any of them by their rank unless he was angry or his feelings had been hurt.

"Not at all, Colonel," Kinch said, somewhat stung by the accusation. "I just didn't want to burden you with my problems when you have so much on your mind already."

"You know all concerns come to me and I relay them to Klink. I **know** you know the procedure, Sergeant."

"Yes, sir, I do."

"Then make sure you remember it in the future, Sergeant! I will not be disrespected like that again. Not by **you** or **anybody** else in this barracks. Have I made myself clear?" Hogan was aware he was raising his voice enabling all the men in the barracks to hear.

"Crystal, Colonel," Kinch said softly.

"Good!" Hogan then turned his wheelchair around and started in the direction of his quarters. He suddenly stopped and rubbed his eyes. He then turned the chair around and faced Kinch who by now had sat down quietly at the table. LeBeau handed the radioman a cup of hot coffee. Neither LeBeau, Carter or Newkirk tried to look at either the Colonel or Kinch. They could all feel the tension in the air. Hogan wheeled himself directly up to the table, his eyes never leaving Kinch's face.

"I'm sorry, Kinch. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. I don't know why I did. No, that's not completely true. I do know why. But regardless, it's no reason to take it out on you or any of you men. Can you forgive me?"

Kinch let a smile appear. "No sweat, Colonel," he said. "It's already forgotten."

"Are you sure?"

Kinch nodded slowly. "You were just blowing off steam. We all need to do that at times. Don't worry about it."

"Then you and I are okay?"

"We're okay."

Hogan let out a deep breath before turning his chair around and heading back in the direction of his quarters.

"What about your breakfast, Colonel?" LeBeau asked.

"I'll have it in my quarters, LeBeau. You can bring it in when it's ready."

"Oui, Colonel. But wouldn't you rather eat out here with us?"

Hogan stopped just outside his quarters. However, he didn't turn around. "I'd just rather be alone right now, Louie. Can you understand?"

"Oui, Colonel. I understand. I will bring you your breakfast when it's ready."

"Thanks, LeBeau. Oh, and Kinch..."

Kinch looked around at his commanding officer. "Yes, Colonel?"

"Was Klink able to help you with your problems?"

Strange as it was, Colonel, he was."

"Good. I'm glad," was all Hogan said. He wheeled himself inside his quarters and closed the door behind him.

Kinch let out a deep breath as the others gathered around him.

"You all right, mate?" asked Newkirk, concerned.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I just wasn't prepared for the Colonel to blow up like that. But I shoulda expected it. I mean, he did see me approach Klink and then go into his office."

"Speaking of Klink," said Carter, "What did he have to say?"

"Not a lot, really. He did say he's concerned about the Colonel and wants to help him in any way he can. He believes the Colonel hasn't really accepted his condition yet. In addition, Klink said he doesn't really want to send the Colonel someplace else and is willing to give him as much time as he can before that decison has to be made."

The others looked at each other.

"You think he can be trusted?" asked Carter, worried.

"Yeah, I do. He really does care about the Colonel even though he tries to hide it. It's just that..." his voice trailed off.

"It's just that what?" asked Newkirk, exasperated. "Are you getting an idea, mate?"

A wide smile broke out on Kinch's face. He found himself chuckling. "Yeah, I am," he said. "But before I let you in on it I need to think about it more and work out the details. But, you'll all know soon. I promise."

"But what about Klink and Schultz?" asked Carter. "I mean, how can we pull this off without them interferring?"

"Because, Andrew..." Kinch replied. "Both Klink and Schultz will play a part in it. That I **can **tell you."

It was late afternoon when the barracks door opened and Sergeant Schultz strolled in, a tired look on his face. He leaned his rifle against one of the bunks and sat down without waiting to be asked. LeBeau, Carter, Kinch and Newkirk looked at each other before looking at Schultz, confused.

"Something we can do for you, Schultzie?" asked Newkirk as he lit a cigarette. "Or is this a social visit?"

"Jolly joker," said Schultz, wearily. "Can't I come into the barracks just to say hello?"

"No," LeBeau added. He had saved a piece of his apple strudel for Schultz.

"Here's another jolly joker. If you must know, cockroach, I could smell your apple strudel outside, and I was just wondering if I could have some?"

"But of course, Schultzie," said LeBeau handing him a plate covered with a cloth. "I saved you a piece. Enjoy."

Schultz's eyes widened as he took the plate. He got up. "Thank you cockroach," he said as he sniffed the strudel. He sighed with a contented smile as he grabbed his rifle. "Wunderbar!" he sighed. "Simply wunderbar!" He exited the barracks.

Carter, getting up, hurried to the barracks door and peeked out. Satisfied, he turned back to the others. "It's okay. He went in the opposite direction. Probably so he can eat without being seen by Klink." He sat down.

Kinch glanced in the direction of Hogan's closed door. All of them knew Hogan had not left his quarters since breakfast. Kinch motioned for Chris Tucker and Corporal Martin Benson to join them at the table. Benson, only twenty-three,had only been assigned to Barracks two for about 2 weeks, but was rapidly becoming a dependable man. Kinch kept his voice low just in case.

"I've worked everything out in my head," he said. "But here it is. We're gonna have a message come from London to the Colonel telling him they have a mission for him, and that their decision on his request will be based on the outcome of the mission."

"Sounds good so far," agreed Benson, eager to help the Colonel any way he could.

"The mission will be that a top level Kraut officer will come to Stalag 13 with a companion who has with them a paper with the name of someone to be assassinated. He wants to leave the information in Klink's safe where it will be picked up within seventy-two hours by someone else who is the paid assassin. The mission will be to stop the assassination and capture the paid assassin and send him to England. Then, another Kraut officer the Allies are after must be framed as the assassin so he will be arrested by the Gestapo and executed."

"It's a good plan, mon ami," said LeBeau. "Just one tiny problem..."

"I know. Who will be the target."

"Oui. It should be someone of importance."

Kinch smiled as a thought occured to him. "How about Burkhalter as the target?" he asked.

"Kinch, me mate, you are beautiful!" exclaimed Newkirk. "If old Burkhalter gets bumped off and is replaced, whoever it is could end up replacing old Blood n' Guts Klink..."

"...and which could endanger our operation," concluded LeBeau with a smile.

"I'm confused," said Carter. "I mean, how will this help Colonel Hogan?"

Newkirk rolled his eyes, exasperated. He looked at Carter, draping an arm around the younger man's shoulder. "It's simple, Carter. If this works, the Colonel will have stopped an assassination attempt, captured a paid assassin, and set up another Kraut to look like the assassin so he can be arrested by the Gestapo. Now do you understand?"

Carter smiled slightly. "Now I do," he said.

"Good!" Newkirk replied matter-of-factly. "Because I really didn't feel like explainin' it to you again"


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Kinch waited until after dinner before going back to the radioroom and contacting the underground. Once contact had been made with Lancelot, Kinch proceeded to explain everything that had happened starting with the explosion in the tunnel, Hogan's paralysis and his subsequent decison to resign his command shortly after London had taken the mission originally given to the Colonel away from him. Kinch followed by asking for a meeting at 2100 hours tonight with Lancelot who would be brought in through the emergency tunnel entrance. Lancelot agreed. Kinch then returned to the barracks where he found Newkirk smoking a cigarette, Carter sitting at the table reading a book and LeBeau preparing coffee.

"Where's the Colonel?" Kinch asked, not seeing Hogan anywhere.

LeBeau jerked a thumb over his shoulder towards the closed door. "Holed up in his quarters as usual."

Just then the barracks door opened and Wilson walked in. He sat down at the table as did LeBeau. "Anything new to report?" he asked. "How's the Colonel?"

"The same," Newkirk replied. "He's been taking his meals in his quarters and hardly comes out anymore. He even accused Kinch of trying to undermine him as Senior POW officer."

Wilson looked at Kinch. "Is that true?"

Kinch looked sheepishly at Wilson. "He apologized right away, Joe. As far as I'm concerned, it's forgotten."

The medic sighed wearily. "He must be under enormous stress to do something like that," he said. "This plan of yours better work. By the way, have you men come up with anything yet?"

Kinch smiled. "That's what I came up from the radioroom to discuss." He motioned for Tucker and Benson to join them. Once eveyone was seated, Kinch explained the entire plan to Wilson who had to admit he was impressed.

"I just spoke with our contact in the underground," Kinch continued. "Newkirk, I need you to meet him at 2100 hours tonight and bring him in through the emergency tunnel. It'll be Lancelot. You'll bring him into the tunnel and into the barracks."

"That's a bit dicey, isn't it, mate?" asked Newkirk. "I mean, what if the Colonel sees him?"

"Newkirk, don't you think Colonel Hogan would become suspicious with all of us in the tunnel at one time?" Kinch remained calm.

"Kinch is right, Newkirk," LeBeau chimed in. He then looked at Kinch. "But what if the Colonel does see him? What will we say is the reason he is here?"

"I wouldn't worry about Lancelot," said Kinch. "I explained everything to him. The explosion in the tunnel, the Colonel's paralysis, everything. He'll know how to handle any questions from the Colonel."

Newkirk's face brightened a bit recalling the bold underground operative who had helped them rescue the Colonel from Abwehr headquarters. "It'll be good seeing that chap again," he remarked fondly.

Wilson looked at his watch. "Think the Colonel's still awake?" he asked.

"Might be," Tucker said. "He hasn't requested anybody to help him get ready for bed yet."

"Think I'll pay him a little visit. Maybe I can relieve some of the pressure he's feeling." Wilson got up and walked over to Hogan's quarters. He knocked on the door. He heard Hogan's voice asking him to come in.

"Colonel, I'm surprised you're still awake," Wilson commented standing in the doorway. "Can I come in?"

Hogan, who had been reading a book looked up.

"How are you, Joe?"

"I should be asking you that, Colonel. I heard about you and Kinch earlier today."

Sighing, Hogan closed the book he'd been reading. "I really didn't mean for that to happen. I guess I'm just a little sensitive about things these days." He motioned for Wilson to have a seat. The medic pulled the chair out from Hogan's desk and sat down, facing the Colonel.

"Talk to me," Wilson said seriously. "What's wrong? This all can't be from you wanting to resign your command."

"I don't know where it's all coming from. I just find myself very short-tempered these days. Also, I'm bored silly. And I can't wait for London to make a decision on my request."

"Still want to resign your command?"

"Yes. I haven't changed my mind about that. So if that's what you came in here for, you can just leave."

"I only came in here to find out how you are. I am the camp medical officer or have you forgotten?"

Hogan forced a smile to his lips. "And a very good one at that." Hogan paused for a moment. "And a very good friend as well."

Wilson smiled back. "As are you, Colonel Hogan. That's why it pains me to see you like this. And as the camp medical officer, I'm giving you a prescription to follow."

Hogan began rolling his eyes towards the heavens. "Joe, don't you start..."

"And don't roll your eyes at me either. I'm giving you a direct order. Beginning tomorrow, I want you to stop hiding in your quarters and spend more time with your men. They're worried about you. They all feel you're shutting them out."

Hogan looked at Wilson with a sadness in his eyes that the medic spotted immediately. But he decided against pushing Hogan right now. He knew the Colonel well enought to know Hogan was very tight-lipped when it came to discussing himself and would talk only when ready. "I don't plan on staying, Colonel," Wilson said slowly getting to his feet. He checked his watch. "It's getting late. Need help turning in?"

Hogan sighed wearily. He tossed his book on the desk. "Might as well," he said. "I'm beat anyway."

Nodding, Wilson opened the door and peered out. "Chris, could you come in here for a minute and help me with the Colonel?"

Glancing at the others, Tucker got up and headed towards Hogan's quarters and closed the door behind him.

About an hour later, both Tucker and Wilson left Hogan's quarters and sat down at the table. LeBeau poured each of them a partial cup of coffee.

"Is the Colonel all right?" asked Kinch.

"As well as can be expected," Wilson replied. "I just wanted Chris's help getting the Colonel into bed." He took a sip of coffee. "He hasn't changed his mind about resigning his command. However, I gave him a direct order to spend more time with you men instead of hiding out in his quarters every day. Hopefully he'll follow it."

Kinch smiled as he drank his coffee. "We'll let you know if he does. But getting him into bed means we won't have to worry about him seeing Lancelot when he comes. Thanks for that."

Wilson nodded, a smile appearing.

Kinch checked his watch. He looked at Newkirk. "You'd better get ready to meet Lancelot, Newkirk."

"Right, mate," Newkirk hurried to his feet and went about changing into his black pants and turtlenck sweater. He smeared black oil on his face as a means of camouflaging himself. He tucked a pistol into the back of his waistband.

"Remember..." Kinch reminded him, slapping the upper bedframe and both watched the lower bunk rise and the ladder drop. "Bring Lancelot back here. And be careful." He slapped the Englander on his back as Newkirk stepped over the lower bedframe and disappeared down the ladder. Kinch slapped the frame again and waited until the bunk dropped down again. Kinch turned to the others. "Well, good luck to all of us with this plan," he sighed. "There's a lot riding on it's success or failure."

Wilson held up his coffee cup in as a gesture. "No matter what happens, you men should be commended for what you're trying to do."

Kinch sighed. "Don't thank us yet, Joe. We're pretty much playing this by ear."

"Oui, mon ami," LeBeau added, looking at Kinch with a faint smile. "It is a good plan and it will work. We'll make it work."

Exiting the tree stump outside of camp, Newkirk immediately ducked behind it as the guardtower's searchlight roamed over the area. Once it had passed by, Newkirk quickly disappeared into the nearby shrubbery and soon came to a clearing where Lancelot was waiting. The two men shook hands warmly.

"I was so sorry when Kinch told me about Colonel Hogan and his injury. What can we do for him?"

"Later, mate. Right now I'm suppose to bring you back to camp. We'll explain everything once we're there. C'mon."

Less than an hour later, both Newkirk and Lancelot were in the barracks. Kinch introduced the underground operative to Sergeant Chris Tucker and Corporal Martin Benson. Then, he motioned for Lancelot to have a seat.

"Coffee?" asked LeBeau.

"Yes, thank you. It is a bit chilly out tonight."

LeBeau smiled as he poured the coffee into a cup and handed it to Lancelot who smiled as it's warmth flooded his entire body.

"Where is Colonel Hogan?" Lancelot asked, looking around nervously. "I was under the impression he was not to know about this plan of yours."

"He's in bed and no he's not," said Kinch all in one breath. "Look. We have a plan we think might help the Colonel." Kinch then went into detail regarding the plan he had come up with to try and help the Colonel regain his confidence and that since Hogan knew practically all the underground members by name and/or sight, they would need at least five members the Colonel hadn't met. That was essential if the plan was going to work.

"One of them will pose as a Gestapo Major called Von Tassel," Kinch continued. "The man who will be with him will be called Henrik Claussen. Claussen will be in civilian clothes. Now, Claussen will have in his possession a document with the name of someone who is to be assassinated. That name, will be General Albert Burkhalter."

Lancelot raised both eyesbrows in surprise as he listened. "Go on, please," he said, fascinated.

"Claussen and Von Tassel will tell Klink they have an important document that needs to be keep in his safe for no more than seventy-two hours and will be picked up within that time by someone we'll call Erik Hofferman. He will be wearing plain clothes and will be the paid assassin hired to kill Burkhalter. The plan will be for Colonel Hogan to uncover the assssination plan and capture the assassin and turn him over to the underground to be sent to England. However, at the same time, a real Kraut official must be framed as the assassin so that he will be arrested by the Gestapo. And it should be someone the Allies want badly. Can you help us?"

Lancelot scratched his chin, lost in thought. "It is a plan worthy of Colonel Hogan himself, my friends. Yes, we can supply whatever you need. Give me a day or two to get the men the Colonel has never met for this plan." He took another sip of coffee. "Have you got the name of the Kraut official who is to be framed yet?"

"Not yet," said Tucker. "Any ideas?"

"Perhaps. Have you heard of an SS Colonel by the name of Rudolph Wasserman?"

"The name sounds familiar," said Newkirk, rejoining the others after having cleaned up and changed back into his uniform. He lit a cigarette and sat down. "Isn't he that bastard who was recently promoted to Colonel after he flew those missions and shot down all those bloody planes of ours recently?"

"That's the one. He's become a favorite of Hitler's. He's also a sadistic pig. Thinks other than Germans, everyone else was put on this earth to be his playtoys. He also despises the Luftwaffe and Burkhalter in particular."

"Why's that?" asked Carter.

Lancelot smiled. "As a young soldier in the Luftwaffe, Burkhalter passed him over for a promotion which he felt he deserved. He's never forgiven him for that. I hear he still carries a grudge."

Newkirk smiled. "Sounds like a bloody good candidate for a framed assassin if ever there was one. He has my vote."

"He's got mine, that's for sure," said Kinch. "Okay. Then the frameup will be this Wasserman character. Thanks, man."

Lancelot shrugged. "Call it my contribution to helping Colonel Hogan." He finished his coffee. "I'd better get going if I want to find the men you need. How soon do you want to get started?"

"Forty-eight hours from right now."

"I'll get in touch with you when everything is ready." He got to his feet and shook hands with everybody before bidding everyone goodnight. LeBeau escorted him down into the tunnel.

Kinch looked at his watch. "When LeBeau gets back we should catch some sleep. We've got a lot to do in the next forty-eight hours beginning with the message from London I have to compose to Colonel Hogan about the mission, and I need to think about what to say."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The next forty-eight hours were the longest Hogan's men ever experienced. But, true to his word with Wilson, Hogan was outside watching the men play volleyball. He was close to the barracks to hopefully avoid someone running into him. Three of his men were near him. Hogan seemed to be taking an interest in the game. And even he could not deny that the warm sunshine on his face felt good.

"Glad to be outside, Colonel?" asked LeBeau innocently.

Hogan shrugged. "I have to admit the warm sun feels good, LeBeau. But I can't make any promises except to say I'll try not to be such a hermit from now on."

LeBeau smiled. "We can't ask any more than that, Colonel."

"By the way, where's Kinch?" Hogan asked. "I haven't seen him since breakfast."

"I think he went to the radioroom," replied Newkirk, folding his arms and leaning against the barracks. "Said something about wanting to check and see if London has replied to your request yet."

Hogan suddenly looked up at each of his men. "You three seem to be taking my decision a bit better than before," he said, curious. "How come?"

Carter shrugged. "I guess after we thought about it some more and the four of us talked about it some more, we decided maybe you going home might be what's in your best interest after all and that it was selfish of us to try and force you to stay."

"Oui, Colonel," LeBeau agreed. "You could get much better care in the states or even in London. But not in Germany."

"And hopefully..." Newkirk chimed in. "You'll one day be able to get out of that bloody wheelchair and walk again. And that's what we want for you, Gov'nor. And if that means you have to leave, then none of us can think of a better reason for you to go than that."

Hogan sighed as a slight grin crossed his face. "And what about Kinch? What does he think?"

Newkirk shrugged. "Not sure. Kinch pretty much keeps his feelings to himself."

"Oui," LeBeau agreed. "But I think he sees things the same way we now do."

Just then, the barracks door opened and Kinch emerged carrying a slip of paper. He closed the door behind him and looked at Hogan. "Message from London for you, Colonel," he said softly handing Hogan the paper. Hogan took the paper from his radioman and began to read.

"Huh?" he was heard commenting. "They can't be serious. I don't believe this." He looked up. "Kinch, did you get this message right?"

"I asked them to repeat it several times, Colonel. I got it right."

"What's it say, Colonel?" asked LeBeau. He, Carter and Newkirk all glanced at Kinch who winked at them.

Hogan didn't see Kinch wink at the others as he was re-reading the message. "London wants us to stop a scheduled assassination of some bigwig Luftwaffe officer and capture the assassin and send him to London. Also, they want us to set up an SS Colonel named Wasserman to appear to be the assassin so he can be arrested by the Gestapo. They added they'll base their decision on my request of resignation on the outcome of the mission. I wonder who the nut was that came up with this?"

"I asked that question, Colonel," Kinch explained. "General Mortimer is the nut who made the decision."

"Mortimer? General Alex Mortimer?"

"That's the one," Kinch replied nervously. "You know him, Colonel?"

"We entered the academy together. I served under his command for awhile. Good man. This sounds like Alex. He always was a hardsell." Hogan folded the paper as he looked into space. He was quiet for a long time.

"What do you want me to tell London, Colonel?" asked Kinch, waiting.

"I don't know, Kinch. There needs to be someone **else** put in charge of this unit. Yet, I still am **until** that happens. And that **won't** happen until I complete this mission so **graciously** given us by General Mortimer who will then decide my request of resignation." Hogan took a deep breath and handed the folded paper back to Kinch. "Radio London, Kinch, and tell them message received and acknowledged."

"Anything else?" asked the radioman opening the barracks door.

"Yeah," Hogan remarked. "Tell them we'll take care of everything."

Kinch smiled. "Right away, Colonel." He disappeared inside the barracks.

"What are you thinking, Colonel?" asked Newkirk when he saw Hogan's grim expression. "Having second thoughts already?"

"No. I am a little nervous, though. I never thought I'd ever hear myself say that. I mean, what if I can't..."

LeBeau gripped the Colonel's shoulder and he and Hogan looked into each other's eyes. "I do not want to hear you talk like that, Colonel. You have the four of us. Just tell us what you need us to do. Besides, this General seems to be basing his decison on your request after he sees how you handle this one mission. And the Colonel Hogan I know doesn't doubt himself."

Hogan let out a deep breath. "LeBeau, drive me inside will you? We have a mission to prepare for."

Gripping the back of the wheelchair, LeBeau pushed it inside the barracks, followed by Carter and Newkirk. They saw Kinch emerging from the tunnel.

"Messgage sent, Colonel. Oh, and General Mortimer says 'good luck old boy'."

Hogan let a faint grin cross his face as he recalled the general's same 'good luck old boy' wishes when he took off on his first bombing mission several years ago. Hogan suspected the General might be throwing him an olive branch of sorts, but he also believed the General might very well be giving him a way to bow out gracefully and not by having his last mission as commander of the unit at Stalag 13 be that of a mission being taken away. And olive branch or not, for that Hogan was grateful.

LeBeau positioned the Colonel's wheelchair up close to the table. He then poured a cup of coffee for the Colonel. Then, he and the others sat down to wait to see what Hogan would do.

"So what are we going to do, Colonel?" asked LeBeau excitedly. "Do you have a plan yet?"

"First thing we need to find out is who the target is," Hogan remarked. "London said it was a Luftwaffe bigwig." His eyes narrowed as he scratched his chin, apparently lost in thought. "Who do we know is a Luftwaffe bigwig?"

"How 'bout Klink?" Carter said jokingly.

Hogan and the others made a face. "I said bigwig, Carter. Not low man on the totem pole," the Colonel remarked sarcastically.

"What about Burkhalter?" asked Newkirk, lighting a cigarette.

Hogan raised an eyebrow. "It's possible. Do we know anybody else?"

"I'm sure there are probably others, sir," added Kinch. "But Burkhalter sounds the most likely. I mean he's as big as they come...all the way around."

Just then Benson opened the barracks door and looked in. "Gestapo car pulling in," he said.

Kinch and Carter hurried to the door and looked out.

"Is it Hochstetter?" asked Hogan, concerned.

"Nope, " replied Kinch. "I've never seen this guy before, Colonel. Looks like a Major. And he has some guy with him in civlian clothes carrying a briefcase. They're going into Klink's office."

Hogan moved his wheelchair away from the table. "LeBeau, get out the coffee pot."

"Oui, Colonel." The little Frenchman raced into Hogan's quarters and put the coffee pot on the desk and removed the inside which was their amplifier and plugged in the coffee pot. Kinch, Carter, Newkirk and Hogan jammed into Hogan's quarters to listen in on the conversation taking place in Klink's office.

Klink got up from behind his desk, smiling as the two men entered his office. "Heil Hitler, and welcome to Stalag 13, gentlemen."

The Gestapo Major with a serious expression on his face that made Klink extremely nervous as he normally was around any member of the Gestapo, raised his hand as well. "Heil Hitler. And you are Colonel Klink?"

"That I am. But I'm afraid I don't know your name, Major?"

"Von Tassel. Gestapo. This is Herr Claussen."

The other man who Klink guessed was somewhere in his late fifties nodded at him. He appeared very nervous and clutched his briefcase tightly. He adjusted his glasses.

"Herr Claussen," said Klink, nodding. He indicated for the two men to be seated. After his guests were seated, Klink then sat down. "Would you gentlemen care for some refreshments?" He started to get up.

"Nein. Danke," the Major remarked.

Klink, sitting down again reached for his humidor. "Perhaps you gentlemen would like a cigar?"

"Nein," the Major said, more loudly this time. Klink shut the humidor quickly and sat down.

"Colonel Klink, Herr Claussen has in his possession a document which must be kept in your safe as neither of us can risk being caught with it on us. This document is of the upmost importance and will be picked up from you within seventy-two hours by a Herr Hofferman. You will give him this document when he arrives. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir. But, why don't you just give this document to Herr Hofferman yourself?"

The Major smirked. "Let's just say that this document contains information that, if it were to leak out, would be unhealthy for both Herr Claussen and myself. Now, any more questions, Klink?"

"No, Major. And don't worry about anything. Your information will be as safe here as with the Fuhrer. You can rest assured."

"Danke, Colonel," Claussen replied opening his briefcase and removing a sealed envelope. He handed it to Klink who promptly got up and opened his safe. He put the envelope inside and, closing the door, turned to his guests rubbing his hands together like a small child.

"Are you both certain you can't stay for dinner? I can have..."

"Nein, Colonel," said Von Tassel as both he and Claussen got slowly to their feet. "But both Herr Claussen and I must be on our way. We have business to attend to elsewhere. Heil Hitler!"

Hogan pulled the plug on the coffee pot and appeared to mull over what they had just heard. "How much do any of you want to bet the name of our target is in that envelope?" he asked.

"Are you taking bets, Colonel?" asked Newkirk, grinning.

Hogan looked at him. "No. But we need to get into Klink's safe and get a look inside that envelope."

Newkirk wiggled his ten fingers at Hogan. "Just let the magic fingers of Peter Newkirk at that little grey beauty in Klink's office and you will."

Hogan wheeled himself away from the desk. "That's what I'm counting on, Newkirk," he said with a grin. Hogan then looked at the Frenchman. "LeBeau, I'll need you to go with Newkirk tonight after Klink's gone to bed and break into his office. You'll have to keep watch while he opens that safe."

"Oui, Colonel," LeBeau replied, smiling. He looked at Carter, Kinch and Newkirk who were also grinning. So far their plan was working like clockwork.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

It was well after dark when the window to Klink's office opened, and Newkirk silently climbed inside followed by LeBeau. LeBeau closed the window behind him and then quietly made his way in the dark to the door to stand watch while Newkirk approached the safe in the corner of the room. Stretching his arms, the Englander got down on one knee in front of the safe.

"Hello, darlin'," he cooed to the grey hulk of metal facing him as if he were speaking to a woman. "It's your old friend Peter Newkirk back again. Now don't you worry none. I promise me hands are very warm." That said, Newkirk leaned his ear against the safe and began slowly turning the dial until he could hear the tumblers. It took him less than five minutes before he smiled and opened the door. Reaching inside, he pulled out the sealed envelope Klink had put inside earlier. He stuffed it inside his inner jacket pocket.

"Let's go, LeBeau," he whispered, standing. "The sooner the Colonel gets a look, the sooner I can put this envelope back before it's missed."

LeBeau smiled as he opened the window and climbed out with Newkirk behind him. He closed the window. The duo silently made their way across the compound until they reached their barracks. LeBeau hesitated going inside. Newkirk sensed something was troubling the Frenchman.

"What's wrong, LeBeau?" he asked quietly, looking around. The last thing he wanted was to be caught outside the barracks at night and especially not with the envelope on him. LeBeau looked at him, concerned.

"Newkirk, are we doing the right thing by Colonel Hogan?"

"What do you mean, mate?"

"I mean, I'm beginning to have second thoughts about what we're doing. Suppose the Colonel can't pull this off? He'll be in worse shape emotionally than he already is. I mean, we could be doing him more harm than good. And I couldn't live with that. Could you?"

"Not for a minute, mate. But we made a decision and we have to see it through. And who knows? Maybe the Colonel will surprise everybody. But if we don't get inside before somebody spots us out here we'll never know will we? Now open the bloody door and let's get inside."

Sighing, LeBeau opened the barracks door and the two of them went inside and closed the door seconds before the searchlight scanned the grounds outside Barracks two where they had moments before been standing.

Heading for Hogan's quarters, Newkirk gently grabbed LeBeau by the arm. The little Frenchman looked at Newkirk. "What?" he asked.

"If you're having doubts about the Colonel, LeBeau, I would keep them to yourself," Newkirk whispered. "The Gov'nor's got enough to deal with without one of his own men doubting him. And frankly, Louie, I don't think the Colonel could handle that. Understand?"

"Oui. I understand."

The pair made their way into Hogan's quarters where they found the Colonel, Carter and Kinch waiting.

"Any problems?" asked Hogan with a worried look.

"That little grey darlin' in Klink's office cooperated with me completely, sir," Newkirk joked pulling the sealed envelope from inside his jacket and handing it to Hogan who then proceeded to open it. He removed the folded paper from inside and unfolded it. He scanned the name printed on it. He glanced at the Englander with a lopsided grin.

"You were right, Newkirk," he said. "The name printed on this paper is General Albert Burkhalter."

"Don't everybody congratulate me at once," Newkirk joked. "I haven't even performed me best trick yet."

"What would that be?" asked Carter.

"Knock it off, Carter," Hogan remarked gently, folding the paper and putting it back in the envelope. "We don't have time for this right now. Carter, replace this envelope and then I want Newkirk to put it back in Klink's safe before morning. Got it?" He handed the envelope to Carter.

"Yes, sir, Colonel."

Hogan looked at his watch. It was nearing midnight. "After Newkirk gets back from replacing that envelope in Klink's safe, we all need to get some shuteye. And I have to think about our next move." He looked up at the radioman. "Kinch, I'll need you and Newkirk to help me. LeBeau and Carter, I'll say goodnight now."

"Goodnight, mon Colonel," said LeBeau.

"Sleep well, boy. I mean sir," Carter added.

The two men left their commanding officer's quarters and closed the door behind them leaving Newkirk and Kinch to help Hogan undress and get into bed.

It was nearly an hour later that Kinch and Newkirk emerged from Hogan's quarters, both men wishing the Colonel good night. Kinch closed the door. He slapped Newkirk on the back as both men joined LeBeau and Carter at the table. Carter handed Newkirk the newly sealed envelope that resembled the one that had been opened. Newkirk tucked it into his inner jacket pocket.

Kinch found himself grinning. "Colonel Hogan doesn't suspect a thing," he said. "I'm beginning to think we just might pull this off."

"Don't forget, mate..." Newkirk reminded him quickly. "We still have a long way to go before we can pat ourselves on the back and say congratulations."

LeBeau sighed and sadly shook his head. He couldn't help what he was thinking. Kinch noticed it right away.

"What's wrong, LeBeau?" he asked. "You should be happy so far. The Colonel really seems to be taking interest in this assignment."

"And I am happy, mon ami. It's just that..." he hesitated. "Never mind. I don't want to depress everybody."

"We always speak what's on our minds," Kinch reminded him. "So say what you're feeling. We won't hold it against you."

"It's just that I wonder if we're doing the Colonel more harm than good by doing what we're doing. It's just possible he might not be able to handle things anymore."

Kinch raised an eyebrow. "Where'd this come from? Earlier, you were all for this plan."

"And I still am, Kinch. It's just that...I don't know. It's just seeing the Colonel getting involved in carrying out this mission he thinks is real just makes me afraid of what might happen should he fail or discovers he can't do it anymore since the accident. What happens to him then? I mean, he could be worse off in the end than he is now and we'd be to blame. I don't think I could live with that. Could you?"

"None of us could, Louie," Kinch said understandingly. "I mean, this entire plan is a huge risk. If it works, hopefully it'll prove to Colonel Hogan that he can carry on. If it doesn't, we'll all have to deal with the consequences, including the Colonel. But I think we can all agree that Colonel Hogan is worth the attempt."

"But if we should fail, mon ami, why should the Colonel have to suffer the consequences of what we're doing?" asked LeBeau, concerned.

Kinch sighed. "I don't know how to answer that, LeBeau, except to say that should we fail, I believe Colonel Hogan will understand that what we did was with his best interest in mind and it was done out of respect and admiration for him as our commander. Does that make any sense to you?"

LeBeau appeared to be thinking about what Kinch had said. "Oui, it does." However, LeBeau did not add that he still had doubts about Hogan's ability to lead based on his circumstances.

Newkirk checked his watch. Standing, he patted his pocket. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I have to return this envelope to the Kommandant's office before we all get into trouble."

Kinch also checked his watch. "I'd better make contact with Lancelot and let him know how things went so far." Getting up, Kinch activated the hidden tunnel mechanism and climbed down the ladder into the tunnel. Newkirk quietly left the barracks again and headed back to Klink's office leaving LeBeau and Carter alone.

Carter studied LeBeau's face. "Gee, LeBeau, do you really believe that Colonel Hogan might not be able to lead this unit anymore?"

LeBeau hung his head as he drew an imaginary line on the table with his finger. "It doesn't matter, Carter," he said. "All that matters is Colonel Hogan."

"How can you say it doesn't matter? I mean we all agreed on this plan. Do you really feel we might be doing the wrong thing?"

LeBeau looked up this time and into Carter's eyes. "Honestly, Carter, I don't know. I wish I did but I don't. All I **do **know is that there will be consequences for all of us should what we're doing be a mistake."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

LeBeau sat alone at the table in the darkened barracks after everyone had gone to sleep. Only the pale glow of the moon gave some light as it came through the closed windows. He looked at the paper in front of him on the table. He had drawn a line down the middle of the paper. In one column he had written PRO and in the other CON. Under each heading he had written what he felt. Under PRO LeBeau had written the following:

1. Will Colonel Hogan change his mind.

2. Doing the right thing.

Under CON he had only one item written:

1. Could make matters worse than before.

LeBeau yawned as he laid down his pencil and studied the short list. His eyelids began to droop. Before he knew it, LeBeau was sound asleep, his head atop the table.

A sudden noise caused LeBeau to awaken with a start. Looking up he noticed it was now morning. He then noticed alarmingly that Hogan was beside him at the table and was reading over LeBeau's list.

Hogan appeared puzzled as he looked at the Frenchman. "LeBeau, what's this about?"

"Sorry, Colonel." LeBeau tried to take the list from Hogan but the Colonel moved it out of his reach.

"What do you mean by doing the right thing? And could make matters worse." Hogan's eyes narrowed. By now he was being joined by Newkirk, Carter and Kinch who had slowly gathered at the table and were listening and watching.

LeBeau rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he tried to think fast. "It is nothing really, Colonel. I was just making a list of pros and cons as to whether you would change your mind about resigning your command and were you doing the right thing. And the con side was that if you weren't sure about your decision it might make matters worse if you later realized you had made a mistake."

Hogan thought about LeBeau's response for a minute before handing the paper back to the Frenchman. "I don't think I'm making a mistake, LeBeau," he said matter-of-factly. But I appreciate you trying to analyze my decision from both sides." He looked at his watch. "We better get ready for roll call before Schultz barges in here." Pushing his wheelchair away from the table, Hogan wheeled himself out of the barracks door, followed by the other men. Kinch, Carter and Newkirk all looked at LeBeau, annoyed.

"You're bloody lucky the Colonel accepted your explanation, LeBeau," Newkirk told him, annoyed.

"I know, I know," LeBeau replied crushing the paper into a ball and throwing it inside the stove where it burned to an immediate crisp in the fire.

"You gotta be more careful, Louie," said Carter quietly.

"LeBeau, you gotta make up your mind now," said Kinch seriously. "You're either with us in what we doing or you're not. But you can't have it both ways."

LeBeau sighed. "I'm with you of course. You don't even have to ask. I'm just afraid for the Colonel. I'm sorry about the list."

"We know you are. We're all afraid, Louie." Kinch wrapped an arm around LeBeau's shoulders. "But we can't do this without you. Now, I think we better get outside for roll call before Colonel Hogan starts wondering about us."

That said, the four of them left the barracks just in time to see Schultz counting each prisoner. But their late arrival didn't escape the eyes of either Hogan or Schultz.

"You four are late!" Schultz bellowed, annoyed. "Didn't you hear me yell roll call?!"

"Sorry, Schultzie," remarked Newkirk, smiling. "Won't happen again."

"Well, see that it doesn't." Schultz began counting on his fingers. Exasperated, he looked at the four again. "You made me forget where I was. Now I have to start over again."

Hogan, a smirk on his face, looked at the rotund guard. He folded his arms. "Schultz, everybody's here. Trust me."

Schultz, who had been counting again, looked at Hogan. "Colonel Hogan, would you please not interrupt me when I'm counting prisoners. I have to...now look what you did! I have to start over again! Now please, Colonel Hogan," he begged, "**Please** let me get through it at least **once**."

"Suit yourself," Hogan was still smirking.

"Schultz! Repooooooorrrrrttttttt!" bellowed Klink as he approached.

Schultz, having not finished counting, turned and saluted. "Herr Kommandant, all prisoners present and accounted for." He hoped it was true.

Klink returned the salute. "Very good." Klink glanced at Hogan. He noticed his Senior POW officer seemed different these last two days. Perhaps what Hogan had been suffering from was only a doubt as to his being able to continue as the ranking POW and nothing more. Whatever it was, he was glad to see the change.

"Schultz, you may dismiss your men." He saluted.

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant," Schultz returned the salute before turning to the prisoners. "All prisoners dismissed!"

As the prisoners dispersed, Klink approached Hogan who saw him coming. He sighed.

"Colonel Hogan, a minute please," Klink said.

Hogan felt the presence of LeBeau, Carter, Kinch and Newkirk behind him without looking. They too were watching Klink.

"Can I help you with something, Kommandant?" Hogan asked innocently.

"No. I just wanted to say I'm glad to see you acting almost like your old self again. What happened?"

Hogan sighed. He looked at Klink with one of his patented grins. "I became involved in something, Kommandant," he said.

"Really? And what would that be?"

"I'd rather not say until it's completed. That way I won't jinx it."

Klink smiled. "Well, whatever it is, keep it up."

"Oh I will, sir. I most definitely will. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to work." Hogan gave a sloppy salute to Klink before turning his chair around and wheeling himself back towards the barracks with his men following closely behind him.

Klink watched Hogan leave. _Perhaps I won't have to make that decison after all, _he told himself as he turned abruptly and headed back to his office.

Carter held open the barracks door to allow Hogan to wheel himself inside. He was followed by Kinch, Newkirk and LeBeau. Wheeling up to the table, Hogan grabbed his coffee cup off the table and held it out it to Newkirk who poured a half cup of freshly made hot coffee in it. Then, everyone sat down at the table, their eyes on the Colonel as he sipped his coffee. He appeared to be thinking about something.

"Something wrong, Gov'nor?" asked Newkirk, lighting a cigarette.

"I'm not sure, Newkirk," Hogan replied. "There's something about that list of LeBeau's that bothers me."

Kinch, Carter and Newkirk all exchanged nervous looks before again looking at their commanding officer.

"LeBeau explained what he was doing, Colonel," Kinch hoped he could convince Hogan to not pursue the issue of the Frenchman's list he had found earlier.

"I know, Kinch. It's just..." he paused and took another sip of coffee.

"Just what, Colonel?"

"I wish I knew. It's just something about it. I just can't put my finger on it."

"Maybe you can't put your finger on what it is because there's nothing there, Colonel," LeBeau explained. "You act like you don't believe me."

"It's not that I don't believe you, LeBeau. I do." Hogan shrugged. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I'm worrying about nothing." He let a faint smile appear as he looked at the Frenchman. "I guess I've become extra sensitive and suspicious of late when I should be concentrating on what we have to do, and that's find out who the assassin is who's suppose to kill Burkhalter."

Kinch let out a silent deep breath as he and the others exchanged knowing looks. Kinch knew they might have **just** dodged a bullet. But they would have to be more careful.

"Any ideas, Colonel?" he asked.

Just then the barracks door opened. Benson looked in. "Hey, Colonel, you'll never guess who's car is coming through the front gates?"

Hogan didn't look around, but continued drinking his coffee. "Who? And please don't say Hochstetter. I can't handle the Gestapo first thing in the morning before I finish my coffee."

"Looks like Burkhalter's."

Puzzled, Hogan looked at his men. He wanted so badly to look out the door of the barracks himself. He sighed. "What's happening?" he asked Benson, looking around.

"Klink's come out to greet him, sir. Now they're both going inside Klink's office."

Hogan moved away from the table. "Kinch, coffee pot."

"Right, Colonel." Kinch jumped up and ran into Hogan's office and plugged in the coffee pot just as Hogan, Newkirk, Carter and LeBeau arrived. They didn't have long to wait.

"General Burkhalter, it's always a great pleasure to see you, sir," Klink remarked nervously, saluting the rotund 300 pound General.

"Klink, it's never a pleasure to see you. But I have no choice, do I?" Burkhalter removed his cap and sat down.

Klink smiled. He chuckled. "There's that famous Burkhalter sense of humor I love."

The General looked exasperated. "Klink. Shut up."

Klink sat down behind his desk. "Shutting up, sir."

Hogan shook his head, amused at the exchange. "These two have to be my favorite comedy team," he remarked dryly.

"One might think Burkhalter actually liked Klink," Carter remarked half-jokingly with a smile.

"If that's liking," added LeBeau, "I'd hate to see disliking."

"Okay, okay, pipe down. I want to hear this," Hogan ordered.

"Klink, what I have to tell you stays in this office. Is that Understood?" said Burkhalter.

"Absolutely, General. You can trust me to keep a secret."

Burkhalter rolled his eyes before looking at the Colonel. "Klink, stop your babbling and listen."

"Yes, sir. I'm listening."

"I'll be staying here at Stalag 13 for the next few days as your guest, and you are to tell no-one that I'm here."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Hogan and his men exchanged looks. Why would Burkhalter being staying here at Stalag 13? And more so, why would he want it kept a secret?

"I don't understand, General Burkhalter," said Klink nervously. "Why would you want to stay here? And why don't you want anybody to know?"

Burkhalter sighed. "Klink, have you heard of a man called the faceless one?"

Klink thought about it for a brief moment. He shook his head. "I never heard of him. Who is he?"

"He's called that because nobody has ever seen his real face," the General explained. "Yesterday, I received this in the mail." Reaching into his inner coat pocket, Burkhalter pulled out a folded letter. He handed it to Klink who, unfolding it, read its contents. He gasped.

"This is a letter threatening your life, General Burkhalter!" He handed the letter back to Burkhalter.

"I know what it is, Klink," Burkhalter replied, exasperated. "This man has assassinated three other high-ranking officials of the Luftwaffe in the last two years. When I received this, my staff thought it might be better and safer for me to go where there was no chance of this man getting to me. So, Klink, here I am...unfortunately."

"But, General Burkhalter, couldn't you own security have..."

"**Dummkopf**!" Burkhalter replied, raising his voice. "If I could trust my own security do you think I'd be here with you?"

Klink shrugged nervously. "Just thought I'd ask."

"Well don't!" Burkhalter smiled as he got to his feet. "Klink, my suitcases are in the car. You will have them taken to your quarters where I will be staying while I'm here."

Klink smiled just as nervously. "Certainly, Herr General. I will see that...wait, my quarters? But...but...where will I sleep then?"

Burkhalter looked menancingly at the Colonel. "You have guest quarters don't you?"

"Yes, General, but..."

"Then you have your answer, Klink. Now, see to the bags!"

Hogan pulled the plug from the coffee pot. He raised an eyebrow. "So, Burkhalter's hiding out here from this assassin," he said. "Isn't that cozy?"

"What about this man Burkhalter said is called the faceless man, Colonel?" asked Kinch. Something was troubling him. He needed to speak with Lancelot asap.

"Not sure, Kinch. If nobody's ever seen his face, I'm wondering if this man could be a master-of-disguise. In which case, he could be **really** hard to find."

"Do you think we can find him, Colonel?" asked Carter, concerned.

"We'd better," Hogan admitted. He was lost in thought.

"So what do we do, Gov'nor?" asked Newkirk with a sigh.

"First thing we do..." began Hogan, "is double check all the guards in this camp. Make sure they're all who they say they are. Find out if anybody's here who is on record as being on leave or ill, etc. Can you do that, LeBeau, Newkirk?"

"Oui, Colonel," LeBeau said with a smile. "We'll do it tonight after Klink leaves his office."

"Good. Kinch, contact Lancelot. Ask him to for a meet at the usual place tonight, 2100 hours. Carter, I want you to meet him and bring him here."

"Right, Colonel."

Kinch was puzzled. "Why the meeting with Lancelot, Colonel?" he asked.

Hogan wheeled his chair away from the desk. "I need the underground to ask around and find out if there's anybody new in town lately who's been asking about Burkhalter. Maybe it'll give us a lead on this guy."

"Hey, Colonel..." Carter began.

Stopping, Hogan partially turned his chair to enable him to look at the young Sergeant. "Yeah, Carter?"

"Why not just let this faceless man bump off Burkhalter? I mean, why are we busting our backsides saving a Kraut anyway?"

"I'm not crazy about the idea either, Carter," Hogan explained. "But keep in mind, if Burkhalter gets knocked off he could easily be replaced by someone else who might end up sending our illustrious and incompetent Kommandant to the Russian front, replace him with someone who we might not be able to housebreak, and put us out of business...permanently."

Carter mulled it over for a moment or two. He shrugged. "Just thought I'd ask," he said innocently.

Hogan began wheeling himself out of his quarters, but then Kinch began pushing the chair the remainder of the way. Hogan glanced over his shoulder, a grin on his face.

"Why thank you, Kinch."

"My pleasure, Colonel," Kinch replied with a smile. "Besides, I always wanted to chauffeur a superior officer."

Hogan winked at the Sergeant. "I won't tell anybody if you won't."

Kinch wheeled Hogan up to the table where Tucker and Benson were sitting, having coffee before he went to the bunk and slapped the hidden mechanism causing the lower bunk to rise.

"LeBeau, watch the door," Hogan ordered.

"Oui, Colonel," the Frenchman replied getting up. He cracked open the barracks door to keep watch.

"Want some coffee, Colonel?" asked Tucker, starting to rise.

"Yeah, why not, Chris. Thank you."

"No sweat, Colonel." Tucker grabbed Hogan's coffee cup off the window sill and proceeded to pour a full cup of coffee. He handed it to Hogan.

"I hope it's all right, sir," Tucker said as he sat down.

"Why wouldn't it be?" asked Hogan, puzzled. He took a sip and immediately made a face. He looked at Tucker who looked apologetically at the Colonel.

"Newkirk made it before roll call, sir," he said sheepishly. "I warned you."

Hogan smirked and shook his head. "As long as it doesn't put me into a coma I'll live," he replied.

Newkirk, hopping up onto his upper bunk, feigned being hurt. "I find that highly insulting if you must know, chaps."

Tucker and Benson both looked up at the Englander. "Sorry, Newkirk," Benson apologized with a wry smile.

Hogan smirked as he looked at Newkirk, a mischevious gleam in his eyes that the Englander knew had been missing since the Colonel's injury. "Pay no attention to him, Newkirk. If anything, at least it's hot. And that's something anyway."

Just then...

"Colonel, here comes Schultz!" cried LeBeau.

Benson jumped up and and slapped the hidden mechanism on the bedframe. The lower bunk dropped down. He then stomped twice on the floor as a warning to Kinch not to come up. Company.

He had no sooner sat down again than the door opened and Schultz wandered in. He approached Hogan.

"Colonel Hogan, Kommandant Klink has requested your presence in his office right away."

Hogan looked up. "Why, Schultz? What'd I do now?"

"Why do you ask that? Did you do something you shouldn't have, Colonel Hogan?" Schultz asked, a mischevious look in his eyes.

"No. But I could if you give me some time, Schultz."

Schultz suddenly looked concerned. "Do I want to know what you would do?"

Hogan shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, Schultz. Do you?"

"Somehow, I don't think I want to know. Colonel Hogan, we're getting off the reason I came here to begin with."

"And what would that be, Schultzie?" asked Newkirk, laying down on his bunk.

Schultz looked up at Newkirk. "I came here to tell Colonel Hogan that the Kommandant wants to see him in his office right away."

"Well why didn't you say so in the beginning," Newkirk remarked. "You can't expect a bloke to read your bleedin' mind."

Schultz groaned, exasperated. He again looked at the Colonel. "Colonel Hogan, please..."

Hogan finished his coffee and put the cup on the table. He moved his wheelchair away from the table. "Okay, Schultz," he said, "Let's see what Klink and Burkhalter want."

"Just let me...wait a minute. How did you know about General Burkhalter being here? I didn't say anything about General Burkhalter!"

"Process of elimination, Schultz," Hogan explained at Schultz pushed the wheelchair out the barracks door which Benson held open. "Y'see, if Hochstetter was here, Klink would've come to see me personally. But since you came instead, it has to be Burkhalter. Understand?"

"Yeah. I think I do." Hogan didn't have to look to know by now Schultz had a totally baffled look on his face. Inwardly, Hogan could only smile. _God it feels good to be active again even if I don't have use of my legs right now, _Hogan told himself with a grin on his face.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

He had watched Burkhalter's car come through the front gates. He had seen that stupid Kommandant Klink come out and greet him. He figured that after receiving the letter he sent, Burkhalter would probably go into hiding. But he couldn't believe his luck when that car came through the front gates.

He continued watching as the American Colonel...what was his name? Oh yes, Hogan. He could prove to be a problem, wheelchair or not. He had heard rumours about this Colonel Hogan from people. He figured he would have to keep an eye on this man. If it became necessary, he would kill him and make it look like either an accident or suicide. He hadn't yet decided. It depended on the situation. Hell, he might just kill Hogan the same way he had killed that prisoner in order to take his place. He sincerely doubted the body would ever be found. He lit a cigarette and slowly blew out the smoke as he continued watching the fat guard wheel Hogan up the ramp and into Klink's office. Smirking, he turned, opened the door, and entered Barracks two.

He was approached by the Englander. What was his name again? Newkirk, that was it. The Englander smiled at him, slapped him on the back, and then stepped outside to light a cigarette. He watched the Frenchman LeBeau, and the Americans Carter and Kinchloe. He had overheard these fools cook up this 'mission' to help their Colonel. _What a bunch of fools! Wasting your time trying to help a cripple!_ he told himself. He sat down on his bunk and proceeded to smoke and think.

Schultz opened Klink's office door and wheeled Hogan into the office. He positioned the wheelchair in front of the Kommandant's desk. "Herr Kommandant, Colonel Hogan present as ordered." He saluted.

Klink returned the salute. "Very good, Schultz. Dismissed." Klink and Hogan both watched Schultz leave, closing the door behind him.

Hogan gave a sloppy salute to Klink. "You wanted to see me, Kommandant?" he asked. He then noticed Burkhalter seated nearby, watching him.

"It was I who summoned you here, Hogan," Burkhalter tried to sound cheerful.

"Oh? I'm flattered, General," Hogan smirked. "May I ask why?" Hogan hoped his men were listening.

"Certainly. What are you doing this evening, Colonel Hogan?"

Hogan raised an eyebrow. "Little 'ol me? I couldn't say without checking my social calender."

"Never mind the wisecracks, Hogan," said Burkhalter, his patience with Hogan beginning to wear thin. "You will join us for dinner this evening at seven-thirty. Understand?"

Hogan first looked at Klink and then Burkhalter. He shrugged. "Why not? Might prove amusing." He looked at Klink. "Anything else?"

"I am looking forward to a delicious dinner this evening. You will have your chef, Corporal LeBeau, prepare it. That's all, Hogan," Burkhalter was smiling again."You are dismissed."

Hogan moved away from the desk and wheeled his chair towards the door. Opening it, Hogan saw Schultz waiting in the waiting room. "Schultz, take me back to the barracks."

"Jawohl, Colonel Hogan," Schultz replied wearily as he entered the Kommandant's office. He manuevered the wheelchair out the door and into the waiting room. After the door was closed, Burkhalter looked at Klink, perplexed.

"Klink, what happened to Colonel Hogan? Why is he in a wheelchair?"

"There was an attempted escape several weeks ago by one of Colonel Hogan's men. Hogan went after him and there was a cave-in. He injured his back in the cave-in. Right now, he cannot walk."

"Well..." said Burkhalter, a grin on his face. "So the eagle's wings have been clipped. How interesting." His eyes suddenly narrowed. "Klink, where did he get the wheelchair from?"

Klink felt himself wilt under the General's stare. "Uh, we had one in supply, Herr General. It was used only once before I came here. Another prisoner had been injured from what I understood. So, when the camp medical officer advised me Colonel Hogan needed one, I allowed him to use it."

"Very generous of you, Klink. But why didn't you just get rid of him. It would have been so much easier."

"Yes, sir, I could have. But you see, General, the men respond to Colonel Hogan. And he keeps them in line better than the previous Senior POW officer. I thought it would be less trouble for Stalag 13 if he stayed, even in his current condition," Klink paused for a moment. "Besides, from what I understand, there's a possibility he might recover from his injury and be as good as new."

"Or he might not. Klink, how long did the doctors say it would take before they know whether or not Colonel Hogan will walk again?"

"Possibly six months to a year. Why?"

"We will let him have that one year, Klink. However, after one year, if there is no improvement, you will see that he is sent elsewhere. Is that understood?"

"But Herr General..."

"**KLINK!**" Burkhalter leaned forward. "Do you understand?!"

"Yes, Herr General." Klink swallowed the imaginary lump in his throat. "If no improvement after one year, send Colonel Hogan somewhere else."

Burkhalter, smiling again, leaned back in his chair. "I'm glad we got that taken care of. Now, Klink, I believe I will have some of your Schnapps."

Schultz opened the door to the barracks and wheeled Hogan inside.

"Thanks, Schultz," Hogan remarked.

"You're welcome." Schultz closed the door as he left.

Hogan was immediately surrounded by Newkirk, Carter, Kinch and LeBeau.

"We heard part of the conversation, Colonel," said LeBeau.

"Yep," Hogan sighed. "Looks like I've been invited to dinner tonight." Looking around, Hogan noticed the glum faces of his men. "What's wrong?" he asked, concerned.

"After you left Klink's office," Kinch explained softly. "Burkhalter told Klink that if there was no improvement in your condition after one year, he was to send you somewhere else. He made it an order."

Hogan sighed. "Well," he said, "Anything can happen in a year. It's only been three weeks. Besides, if my resignation is approved, Klink won't have to follow that order." He grinned. "Besides, we have more important things to worry about, anyway. Kinch, did you reach Lancelot?"

"Yeah, I did. He'll meet Carter at the rendezvous at the scheduled time tonight."

"Good, Kinch." Hogan rubbed his tired eyes.

"You all right, Colonel?" asked Kinch. "You look kinda beat."

"I'm just tired, Kinch. I think I'll take a short nap until it's time for LeBeau to cook dinner for tonight."

"Too bad I can't serve them dog food, Colonel," yelled LeBeau.

Please don't," Hogan groaned. "I'll be eating with them." Hearing LeBeau mention dog food reminded Hogan not too long ago when LeBeau used dog food on his hors d'oeuvres. He looked at the Frenchman, eyes pleading. "Think of it as you're cooking for me alone."

LeBeau nodded. He, too, remembered the incident. "If you weren't going to be there, Colonel, I would let them eat dog food." He then smiled fondly. "Don't worry, Colonel. I'll save the dog food for another time. I promise."

"My stomach thanks you, LeBeau," Hogan quipped. He rubbed his eyes again. "Kinch, I'll need you and Chris to help me." He wheeled himself into his quarters with Kinch and Tucker following. Kinch shut the door.

LeBeau, Newkirk and Carter all sat down at the table. They were worried.

"Can you imagaine that Burkhalter?" said LeBeau. "Ordering Klink to send the Colonel someplace else if there's no improvement after one year."

Newkirk lit a cigarette. "Maybe we can stop that from happening."

"How do we do that?" asked Carter, confused. "I mean, we can't make Colonel Hogan walk if he can't."

"I know that, Carter. Blimey! No, what I meant was that when the time comes, if there's no improvement in the Colonel's condition, and it appears he won't walk again, I'd rather see him sent back to the states than someplace else where that bloody Hochstetter could get at him and we can't do anything about it."

LeBeau and Carter looked at each other and then they both looked at Newkirk.

"Then everything we're doing now could be for nothing," LeBeau remarked softly.

"Don't look at it that way, Louie," Carter replied. "Like the Colonel said, a lot can happen in a year, and it's only been three weeks so far."

"That's right, LeBeau," Newkirk patted the Frenchman's hand. "It'll all work out. You'll see."

LeBeau forced a smile on his lips. "You're right. Both of you are. It'll work out. It has to."

"What has to?" asked Kinch as he and Tucker joined them at the table.

"We were discussing what Burkhalter said about having the Colonel sent someplace else after one year if there's no improvement," said Newkirk. "We decided if that happens, it's better that the Gov'nor go home to the states where Hochstetter can't get to him rather than he be sent somewhere else where we can't help him if need be."

Kinch, clasping his hands atop the table, looked around at the others. "Makes sense to me. But first things first. I think we may have a problem."

"What kind of problem?" asked Carter, concerned.

"When I contacted Lancelot to give him the Colonel's message about the redezvous tonight, I updated him of what was happening so far with Colonel Hogan."

"So?" asked LeBeau. "How's that a problem?"

"Lancelot told me no letter was ever sent by them to Burkhalter threatening his life. He also said the underground operative who is pretending to be the paid assassin swore to him that he never contacted Burkhalter at all."

Everybody looked at Kinch now, concerned and worried.

"What are you saying exactly, Kinch?" asked Newkirk. "Are you saying we may be dealing with a **real** assassin that's after the General?"

"That's **exactly** what I'm saying."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

The men were stunned. All they could do was stare at the radioman.

"Are you serious?" asked Carter.

"Very," said Kinch. "We have a very real assassin after General Burkhalter instead of a phony one."

Newkirk took a long drag on his cigarette. "So what are you suggesting we do, mate?"

Kinch sighed. "We have two alternatives. One, we can continue to try and handle everything ourselves. Or two, we can tell Colonel Hogan the truth and see what he wants to do."

"Are you crackers?" asked Newkirk, nearly choking on his cigarette. "Tell the Colonel what we've done? He'll snap his twig and probably have us all court-martialled."

"Oui," LeBeau agreed. "We can't tell the Colonel. There's no way to know how he'll take the news. It could destroy him."

"I think we should tell him," Carter remarked. "I think Colonel Hogan might surprise us."

"He'll surprise us all right," Newkirk replied. "He'll surprise us by not killing us."

Chris Tucker listened to each man before he spoke. "I agree with Carter," he said softly. "I think we should tell Colonel Hogan the truth. I mean, it was okay to keep everything a secret when the underground was role-playing. But we're now talking about a real assassin out there somewhere. It's not role-playing anymore. This is serious stuff now. Somebody could get hurt, or worse. He has a right to know."

Newkirk took a long drag on his cigarette. He sighed. "You have an annoying way of stating the obvious, mate." He then looked at the others. "He's right, y'know. Somebody could get hurt, like one of us. And the Colonel is in a wheelchair right now. He'd make a bloody good target. We have to look out for him." He glanced at the radioman. "What do you think, Kinch?"

Kinch took a deep breath before speaking. "I agree with Carter and Chris. We should tell Colonel Hogan the truth and deal with the consequences."

He watched and listened from his seated place on his bunk. So, they were going to tell the Colonel the truth. Now he knew for sure he'd have to keep an eye on Hogan as well as his men. If necessary, he would kill all of them. He lit another cigarette.

It was nearly fours later when the door to Hogan's quarters opened, and Hogan wheeled himself out of his quarters followed by Kinch and Tucker. He was still in his uniform but had added a tie. However, he did look and feel more refreshed after his nap.

"Feeling better, Gov'nor?" asked Newkirk as he, LeBeau, Carter, Kinch and Tucker all sat down at the table. They were all nervous.

"Much," Hogan replied. He looked at each man and noticed the apprehensive expressions on their faces. He suspected something was wrong.

"What's happened?" he asked, eyes narrowing.

Kinch noticed everybody looking at him. After a minute, he looked at his commanding officer. "We have something to tell you, Colonel," he began.

Hogan wheeled his chair closer to the table. "Tell me what?"

Kinch hesitated. "Oh boy, this is tough. Just keep in mind, Colonel. We had your best interest in mind."

A nagging suspicion began eating away at Hogan. "Somebody better tell me what's going on."

_Well, here goes nothing,_ thought Kinch. He licked his dry lips. "We all knew and understood how you felt after London took that bombing of the 'munitions train away from you. You became extremely depressed. You had apparently lost your confidence in your ability to lead. So, uh...that is...uh..."

"We devised a plan to help you," LeBeau took over.

"Plan? What plan? What did you all do?" Hogan asked impatiently. He looked directly at Kinch. "I'm waiting, Kinch."

"We came up with a plan to help you regain your confidence, and prove to you that you could still lead. It involved pretending there was an assassin after General Burkhalter and for you to uncover who it was and also to frame Colonel Wasserman as the assassin so he would be eliminated."

Hogan was stunned. Anger was beginning to form. "Kinch, who's idea was this? Was it yours?"

Kinch hung his head and slowly nodded.

"Don't blame Kinch, sir," Carter quickly jumped to his friend's defense. "We all agreed to it. We just wanted to help you, Colonel. We couldn't take seeing you so down and defeated."

"Oui, mon Colonel," LeBeau added quickly. "Everything was working fine. You were actually involved with accomplishing this mission we came up with. It was good watching you become active again."

"He's right, Gov'nor," Newkirk added. "We meant no harm, Colonel. We just didn't want to see you so down and doubting yourself. London had no right taking that mission away from you."

All Hogan could do was bow and shake his head. He looked up again. "Why tell me about this now?" he asked, his voice taut.

"Because we recently discovered we're dealing with a real assassin and not one impersonated by the underground," Kinch answered.

Hogan rubbed his forehead. This just kept getting better and better. "You mean you involved the underground in this as well?"

"Oui," LeBeau explained. "Lancelot agreed to help in any way he could. He feels the same way we do, Colonel." The Frenchman hung his head and stared at the table.

"So the letter to Burkhalter was a fake also?"

"We had nothing to do with that, Colonel," Tucker added slowly. "That's real. And so is the assassin threatening him."

"We're sorry to have deceived you, Colonel," said Carter sheepishly. "We just couldn't sit by and do nothing after London took that mission from you. We wanted to help you and this was the only way we could think of."

Just then the barracks door opened and Wilson entered. Taking one look at the faces of Hogan's men, he suspected something was amiss. "What's happened?" he asked, concerned.

Newkirk glanced at him. "The Colonel knows, Joe."

Wilson, letting out a deep breath, ran a hand over his hair. "You told him?"

"We had to. The situation's changed. We'll explain it to you later," Tucker told him.

"Wait a minute," Hogan found himself staring again at his men. "You mean Wilson was in on this also?"

"I was," Wilson admitted. "Don't blame your men, Colonel. They wanted to help because they didn't want to see you leave and also because they didn't want to see you so down on yourself."

Hogan was silent for a long moment. Sighing, he looked at his radioman again. "One thing," he said. "Kinch, did you ever send that message to London I asked you to?"

Kinch looked at Hogan. "No, sir, I didn't. In fact, I faked the message from General Mortimer to you."

"So London has no idea of my resignation request?"

"No, sir."

"I see," was all the Colonel could say as he ran a hand over his black hair.

"We're all sorry, Colonel," said Carter quietly. "I hope you're not disappointed in us for trying to deceive you like we did."

"I don't know how I feel right now, Carter, other than angry." Hogan wheeled himself away from the table and headed towards his quarters. Kinch started to get up, but Hogan waived him away. "No thanks. I can make it on my own." Kinch sat back down.

"I need to think about this," Hogan replied, not looking at his men. He checked his watch. "I still have two hours before I have to be in Klink's quarters." That said, the men watched Hogan wheel himself towards his quarters, open the door, and go inside. They heard the door slam shut.

Wilson slowly sat down. "What happened?" he asked no-one in particular.

"We discovered there's a real assassin out there somewhere wanting to bump off Burkhalter. That was when we decided it would be better that we tell the Colonel the truth."

"What do you think he'll do, Joe?" asked Kinch quietly. "Think he'll ever forgive or trust us again after we betrayed him?"

"Hopefully after he's had time to think about things, he will," Wilson replied. "He's got to realize **why** you men did what you did. My advice? Give him space and time to think things over. Don't rush him."

"But what about the assassin?" asked Carter, confused.

"What I meant, Carter, is that don't rush Colonel Hogan into reaching a decision as far as how he feels about what you did. But you do have a mission even if it isn't from London to complete."

"I knew this might happen," LeBeau muttered softly, but loud enough for the others to hear. "We could end up losing the Colonel after all. And it will be our fault."

"I'm not so sure about that, Louie," Wilson chimed in. "I have to believe once he's had a chance to think things over, Colonel Hogan will see what you all were trying to get him to see with this plan of yours."

The man seated on the bunk found himself silently snickering at the sudden turn of events as he continued to watch and listen. _So you had to tell Hogan the truth, _he told himself._ Knew you fools were wasting your time trying to help a cripple. Maybe now Hogan won't be a problem to be eliminated and I can concentrate on Burkhalter._ But realistically, he knew enough about the Colonel from watching and studying him these past weeks and from what he'd heard about him to know that Hogan still presented a problem. He shrugged his shoulders and continued puffing on his cigarette. He now knew what he had to do. _I'll just have to get rid of both Colonel Hogan and General Burkhalter, _he told himself, smiling.He didn't really care how Burkhalter's death appeared to others, especially after those other Luftwaffe officers he killed. But Hogan's death would have to be one that would not be questioned by anyone, especially his own men. He suddenly smirked as an idea occured to him. It was so simple. And he had Hogan's men to thank for giving him the idea. He would have Hogan appear to have committed suicide after the betrayal by his men.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Hogan found himself unable to concentrate on what was being said to him by Burkhalter after dinner. His mind was elsewhere. He kept hearing the explanations of his men and Wilson over and over again in his head.

"Are you listening to me, Colonel Hogan?" asked Burkhalter, annoyed.

Hearing his name, Hogan's mind snapped back to reality. "I'm sorry, General. My mind strayed for a minute. What were you saying?"

"I said it seems your mind's been somewhere else since dinner. Are you feeling all right?"

Hogan took a sip of the red wine in his glass. He was watching Kinch, Newkirk and Carter all going about their duties as waiters and trying not to look at him. He suspected LeBeau, who was in the kitchen with Schultz, had not appeared because he, too, was trying to avoid the Colonel.

"I'm fine, General. It's just that I tire easily since the accident."

"Klink tells me you were injured in a cave-in when you went after one of your men who was trying to escape." Burkhalter was studying Hogan's face intently.

Hogan shrugged. "I was. Fortunately, the Kommandant's record of no successful escapes from Stalag 13 is still intact."

"And so it is, Hogan," Burkhalter replied. He lit an after dinner cigar.

Putting his glass of wine on a nearby table, Hogan massaged his forehead as a headache was forming. He looked at the General. "You'll have to excuse me, General, but I think I'll say goodnight and turn in." He eased his wheelchair away from the table.

"Leaving us so soon, Colonel Hogan?" asked Burkhalter, a devious smile appearing. "It's still early." He leaned forward and gripped Hogan's wheelchair by one arm. Kinch and Carter both noticed it. Kinch approached.

"You'll have to forgive the Colonel, General. He didn't sleep well last night and he really should get some rest. Doctor's orders."

Burkhalter looked into Kinch's eyes and saw not only determination but genuine concern for the Colonel. He released his hold on the wheelchair. He leaned back. "My apologies. I didn't realize. Goodnight, Colonel Hogan."

"With your permission, General," Kinch told Burkhalter," Just let me get Colonel Hogan back to the barracks and settled in for the night."

"But of course, Sergeant Kinchloe. Take your time."

Kinch then wheeled Hogan out of the diningroom. Hogan bid Klink goodnight as they both left. Outside Klink's quarters, Hogan felt the cool evening air on his face. He suddenly had the strangest feeling he was being watched.

"Do you want me to get you back to the barracks and help you get ready for bed, Colonel?" Kinch asked quietly.

"No thanks," Hogan replied. "I'm not ready for bed yet. And I can get myself back to the barracks."

Kinch sighed sadly. "Yes, sir. I better stay out here for a little while or Burkhalter might become suspicious." He watched Hogan ease his chair down the ramp. "Goodnight, Colonel," he said.

"Goodnight, Sergeant," was all Hogan said, without looking at him. Kinch watched him go and sadly shook his head

As Hogan wheeled himself across the compound, he still felt someone was watching him. But in the dark he wasn't able to see anybody. Reaching the barracks, he opened the door and went inside. The room was dark as all the prisoners were asleep except for Tucker who sat at the table sipping from his coffee cup.

"Back kind of early, aren't you, Colonel?" he asked.

"I couldn't keep my mind on things," Hogan replied. "So I thought it was better for me to bow out gracefully instead. Any coffee left?"

"I think so. Want some?"

"Please. I'll be in my quarters."

"Yes, sir." Tucker went to the window sill and grabbed Hogan's coffee cup as the Colonel wheeled himself inside his quarters. Just as Tucker had finished filling Hogan's cup he heard something fall. The Sergeant quickly put the Colonel's cup on the table and raced into Hogan's quarters to find the Colonel trying to reach a book he had dropped on the floor.

In the darkened barracks, the man quietly got up from his bunk and approached the table. Removing a small bottle from his jacket pocket, he unscrewed the lid and dumped some of its contents into his hand. He then dropped several of the small white tablets into Hogan's coffee cup. Smiling, he returned the bottle to his pocket and climbed back up onto his bunk to watch and wait.

A moment later, Tucker emerged from Hogan's quarters and approached the table. He picked up the Colonel's coffee cup and returned to Hogan's quarters where he handed it to the Colonel. "I'll say goodnight, sir," Tucker replied as he left Hogan's quarters.

"Goodnight, Sergeant," he said taking a sip of the hot coffee. Tucker closed the door behind him.

Hogan had opened the book to where he had left off, and began reading and drinking the coffee. After about ten minutes all the words on the page suddenly began swimming together as Hogan's vision began to blur. He shook his head trying to clear the cobwebs without success. He momentarily closed his eyes and opened them again. It was suddenly becoming difficult to breath. The book fell from his lap and the coffee cup fell to the floor. Clutching his chest Hogan found himself starting to panic. Reaching as far as he could for something he could use to throw against the closed door and alert somebody in the barracks, Hogan found nothing. So, he did the only thing he could think of. He tipped his wheelchair over and let it fall with himself landing on the floor, barely concious.

It was seconds later that the door burst open and Tucker, Benson and another prisoner barged into Hogan's quarters.

"Colonel!" Tucker shouted dropping to one knee. He pressed two fingers against Hogan's neck and found a pulse, though erractic. He looked at Benson. "Get Wilson! Hurry! Something's wrong with Colonel Hogan!"

"Right!" Benson repeated, jumping to his feet and racing out the door. Tucker looked at the other man. "Get Kinch, LeBeau, Carter and Newkirk. They're in the Kommandant's quarters. Hurry!"

Nodding, the other man hurried out of the room. Alone, Tucker moved a strand of Hogan's black hair off his forehead. "Colonel, what happened?" he asked.

"Coffee..." was all Hogan could manage to say, his words slightly slurred. Tucker reached over and picked up the coffee cup from where it had landed. Looking inside, he noticed the remnants of a white substance on the inside bottom. Just then, Benson returned with Wilson who had his medical bag.

"What happened?" asked the medic, concerned, dropping to one knee.

"I don't know for sure," Tucker said. "But I brought the Colonel some coffee and left him alone. Minutes later there was a crash and we found him on the floor." He handed Wilson the coffee cup just as Hogan's men appeared, frozen in place at the sight before them.

"Mon Colonel!" said LeBeau, crossing himself in silent prayer.

Wilson looked into the coffee cup. He tasted a speck of the white substance. His face suddenly took on a look of horror. "Chris, Kinch, help me. If we don't induce vomiting soon he'll die! Everybody else, get out! **Now**!"

Kinch stepped further into the room and motioned for the others to leave. He closed the door behind him. All a frightened Carter, Newkirk, Lebeau, and Benson could do was sit down at the table and wait.

It was nearly two hours later when the door to Hogan's quarters opened, and a weary looking Joe Wilson, Kinch and Tucker emerged. Tucker closed the door behind him.

"Is he all right?" asked a frightened Newkirk.

"He's alive. But it was close," said Wilson, mopping his brow with the back of his hand. "He's sleeping right now. But, barring unforeseen complications, he should recover from the drug."

"Drug?" asked LeBeau, puzzled. "What drug?"

Wison held up a small bottle of tiny tablets. "It was on the floor near the Colonel's bunk. Has the Colonel given any indication he wanted to kill himself?"

The men were horrified. "Are you saying the Gov'nor tried to kill himself over what we did?" asked Newkirk.

"I'm not saying anything," Wilson replied. "These pills are strong enough that they can shut down respiration causing a person to suffocate because he can't breathe. Fortunately we were able to induce vomiting and empty his stomach of the drug." Wilson looked at Tucker. "That was quick thinking on your part, Chris. If you hadn't noticed what was in the Colonel's coffee cup and alerted me to it, he might have died."

"I don't care what you or anybody else says, "LeBeau argued passionately. "The Colonel would not try and kill himself over what we did. He just wouldn't!"

"LeBeau's right," agreed Newkirk. "There's no way. I mean, sure he'd be angry with us. But off himself? No bloody way!"

"I agree with you," Wilson concurred. "That leaves only one other possibility. And that is someone tried to deliberately murder Colonel Hogan by making it appear he committed suicide."

A hush fell over all of Hogan's men.

"But who would try to kill the Colonel?" asked LeBeau. "I mean, we know everybody in this barracks. It has to have been somebody from outside the barracks."

Newkirk sighed as a troubling thought occurred to him. "You mean like that faceless assassin that's after Burkhalter, mate?"

"But that would mean..." began Carter.

"Yeah," Kinch saw where Newkirk was leading. "That would mean this assassin is somewhere in this camp. He'd have to be to be able to get this close to Colonel Hogan. And he could be anybody."

"But Colonel Hogan will be all right?" asked a still frightened Carter, his eyes bright with unshed tears.

Smiling, Wilson gripped the young Sergeant's shoulder. "He should be fine, Carter. I promise."

Carter managed a slight grin and nodded. "If you say so, Joe."

Newkirk ran a hand over his brown hair. "This is a real sticky wicket, this is," he muttered.

"You can say that again, Newkirk," Kinch sighed. He looked at his watch. "Carter, you better get ready to meet Lancelot and bring him back here. Newkirk, you and LeBeau promised the Colonel you'd check the files on the guards in camp in Klink's office."

Kinch noticed the hesitation in the others. "Look..." Kinch said with a sigh. "Somebody tried to kill the Colonel tonight. It's more important than ever that we carry out his orders to the letter."

"You're right, mate. This thing's become personal now," Newkirk replied. "LeBeau, get your camera and let's go."

"Oui. Right behind you, Newkirk."

"Guess I better get ready to head out and meet Lancelot," Carter chimed in heading for his locker to change his clothes.

"I'll be leaving now," said an exhausted Wilson tucking the pill bottle in his pocket. "The Colonel should sleep through the night. I'll be back in the morning to check on him. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Joe," said Tucker, exhausted. "And thanks."

After the barracks door closed, Kinch looked at Tucker. "Chris, you and I will have to take shifts sitting with the Colonel until Carter, LeBeau and Newkirk get back. You take the first shift. In six hours I'll relieve you."

"You got it, Kinch."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Carter sat hidden behind some shrubbery at the rendezvous place, waiting. He knew he was early and that Lancelot wouldn't arrive for several minutes still. Sitting quietly, Carter began to think about things. And about himself in particular. How could things have gotten so messed up, he wondered. It seemed to stem from the moment Colonel Hogan was injured in the cave-in after an explosion in the tunnel caused by one of his detonation devices. That, Carter figured, was when things began going wrong. True, the Colonel had apologized to him. Yet, Carter believed that if he hadn't been so careless, the Colonel wouldn't be so vulnerable right now by being in a wheelchair. _Look what almost hapened tonight,_ Carter told himself. _Colonel_ _Hogan almost died! If I hadn't accidently caused the explosion in the tunnel, the Colonel wouldn't be in a wheelchair. He would've still been having dinner with Klink and Burkhalter instead of drinking poisoned coffee in his quarters. _Carter slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. "Stupid!" he muttered half to himself.

Suddenly, Carter heard a rustling in the bushes. He gripped his pistol tighter in his sweaty hand. "Who's there?" he asked, nervously.

"It's me..." said a familiar voice. "Lancelot." The underground operative stepped out into the small clearing. Carter lowered his weapon. He grinned.

"Boy, you scared me," he said, relieved. "I thought you were a Kraut patrol."

Lancelot smiled warmly. "How is Colonel Hogan?" he asked, concerned.

Carter proceeded to explain that they were forced to tell the Colonel the truth because they found out there was a real assassin after Burkhalter, and that someone had tried to kill the Colonel earlier with pills in his coffee. Lancelot's eyes narrowed as he listened.

"But is he all right, my friend?"

"Oh...oh yeah. The camp medical officer says he should be fine. But I better bring you back to camp with me. The Colonel will probably want to speak with you."

Newkirk unlocked the window to Klink's office and opening it, quietly climbed inside, with LeBeau following. "Give me the camera, mate, and keep watch at the door," the Englander whispered. LeBeau handed Newkirk his small camera and then cracked open the door to keep watch. Newkirk proceeded to open Klink's files on Stalag 13 personnel and go through each folder.

Tucker crossed his legs as he shifted his position in the chair beside Hogan's bunk as he watched the Colonel sleep. He couldn't believe that someone in their barracks had tried to kill the Colonel. After all, everybody in Stalag13 admired, loved and respected Colonel Hogan. But yet, someone **had **tried to kill him, and nearly succeeded. He stifled a yawn when he noticed the Colonel open his eyes just a slit, a faint smile appearing. Tucker leaned forward.

"How do you feel, Colonel?" he asked.

Hogan rubbed his eyes. "Tired. What happened?"

"Someone tried to kill you, sir, by putting pills in your coffee. It must have happened when I came in here after I heard something fall in your quarters. I left the coffee on the table outside. I'm sorry, Colonel."

"For what? You didn't do anything wrong." Hogan looked around the room. "Where's Kinch, LeBeau, Carter and Newkirk?"

"Kinch is outside sitting at the table, Carter's meeting Lancelot, and LeBeau and Newkirk are going through Klink's files checking on the camp guards you asked them to earlier."

Hogan didn't reply. He sighed wearily. "Chris, help me into my wheelchair, will you? I need to speak with Lancelot when Carter brings him back here and see what Newkirk and LeBeau discovered when they went through Klink's files." He took a deep breath. "Then, I need to speak with the men afterwards."

Tucker licked his lips. "Colonel, I just want to say that I hope you realize what we did, we did because we care about you, and didn't appreciate what London did, nor see you so down and depressed."

"I won't discuss it now, Chris," Hogan replied softly. "But I will later. Just help me right now."

Benson got up and went to the door and cracked it open when he and Kinch heard the lower bunk rise and saw Carter climbing up the ladder followed by Lancelot. The underground operative smiled warmly at Kinch as they shook hands. Kinch motioned for Lancelot to have a seat. As he did, he, Carter, Kinch and Benson all turned to look at the sound of a door opening and saw an exhausted looking Colonel Hogan in his wheelchair which was being pushed by Tucker.

Kinch raised an eyebrow, stunned. "Colonel, you shouldn't be out of bed right now."

Hogan held up a hand. "I'm okay, Kinch. Besides, we have work to do. Have Newkirk and LeBeau gotten back yet?"

"Not yet, Colonel."

Hogan turned to Lancelot. "How are you, my friend?"

"I am well, Colonel. But Kinch is right. You shouldn't be out of bed. I heard about what happened from Carter."

Hogan looked at the young Sergeant who tried avoiding Hogan's eyes as he changed back into his uniform. However, the Colonel did catch him give a quick glimpse in his direction. Hogan had to grin despite himself. Instead, he turned his attention back to the underground operative. "Lance, I need you to do me a favor."

"Whatever you need, Colonel."

"What I need is for you and others to check in town and see if there is anybody new in town who's been asking questions about Burkhalter. Can you do that?"

"Of course. We will begin right away. How soon do you need this information?"

"As of yesterday," Hogan kidded.

"It will be done. Anything else you need?"

"No, that's it. Chris, see Lancelot out throught the emergency tunnel."

"Yes, sir," Tucker replied.

As Lancelot headed towards the tunnel entrance, he looked back at Hogan. "I apologize, Colonel Hogan, for helping deceive you. It's just that the underground thinks alot of Papa Bear, and didn't want to lose him."

Hogan nodded slightly. "Don't worry about it," was all he said. He watched as Tucker and Lancelot disappeared down the ladder. It was then that Newkirk and LeBeau returned. Both paused when they saw Hogan. "Any problems?" he asked.

"No, sir," Newkirk replied hesitantly. "We only could find five men who are all on paid leave, none of whom are in this camp. In other words, Colonel..."

"In other words," Hogan finished the sentence. "Every guard who's suppose to be out of this camp is out of this camp."

"Yes, sir."

"How about any new guards or replacements?"

"No Colonel," replied LeBeau quietly. "It's as Newkirk said. Every guard who should be here is here. There are no new guards, nor are they any replacement guards. Newkirk took pictures of the files of the guards in question including their photos from their files."

Hogan sighed. "Good. We'll need to check the photos against the guards themselves to make certain the pictures match the people."

Newkirk swallowed an imaginary lump in his throat. "I'll uh...go develop those pictures now, Colonel, if it's all right with you?" Newkirk started in the direction of the tunnel entrance.

"Hold it a minute, fellas," Hogan suddenly said. His men all froze where they were. The Colonel's face gave nothing away as to what he was about to say. "Kinch, LeBeau, Carter, Newkirk, I want all of you to have a seat. We have to talk."

There was a nervous chorus of 'yes sirs' as each man sat down at the table. Hogan wheeled himself closer to the table, then clasped his hands atop the table. He took a deep breath before he spoke. He looked at all his men collectively.

"First, I want to say that although I don't appreciate what you did, I understand why you did it. Chris explained to me that none of you appreciated London taking that mission with the 'munitions train from us, and that you all took it as London saying they had no confidence in me without actually saying it. And while I admit it did throw me, I found myself believing that if London believed I couldn't do the job because of my disability, then who am I to argue. My mistake was believing that London knew me better than I knew myself which is what I believe Wilson told me a few days ago. And he was right. I had given up on myself." Hogan paused at that moment before continuing. He looked at Kinch with a grin. "Kinch, I can't believe you came up with such a complex mission to try to bring me out of my depression. It was pure genius on your part. I sincerely mean it."

Kinch squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. "Thank you, Colonel," was all he could say.

"LeBeau, I realize you had some misgivings about this plan of Kinch's. If that's true, then why did you go along with it?"

"Because, Colonel, none of us wanted to see you leave, at least not with having no confidence in yourself. If we were going to lose you, then I wanted it to be because of your disability, not because you couldn't do the job I still know you can do."

Hogan then looked at Carter. "How about it, Carter? Why did you go along with it?"

"Gee, Colonel. I didn't want to lose the best commanding officer I ever had. And like you said, we didn't appreciate the way London treated you after all you've done for them. I admit at first I had doubts we were doing the right thing, but as time went on and I saw how involved you got in this mission, I started to realize you could still do the job and that this plan of ours would show London how wrong they were about you."

"Newkirk?"

The Englander ran a nervous hand over his brown hair. "Well, Gov'nor, I felt London gave up on you too quickly without giving you a fair shot. I was all for Kinch's plan, sir. And I think I speak for everyone here when I say we'd all do it again if it means you'll reconsider resigning your command and stay."

"One more thing, Colonel," LeBeau added softly and with a sad smile. "After you started getting involved with this mission we set up, we began to realize we might be making a mistake by forcing you to stay in Germany when you could probably get better care in the states or in London. So, in the end, we decided that we would make sure if you left us, you would leave knowing you could do whatever was given you even if you never walked again."

Hogan's eyes misted over as he swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. He looked at the men. His men. His team. He realized they were willing to lose him as long as they knew he had his confidence back and believed he could do anything he set his mind to. A tired smile appeared on his face.

"Kinch..." Hogan rested a hand on the radioman's arm. "That message I asked you to send to London a few days ago..."

Hogan felt Kinch stiffen at the mentioning of his message informing them of his resignation. "Yes, Colonel," Kinch said slowly. "I'll send it right away." He started to get up, but the Colonel's grip tightened on his arm.

"Whoa, Kinch. What I was about to say was to forget that message to London. I want you to send another message to them instead. This time I want it sent. Okay?"

"Yes, sir. What do you want me to tell London?" Kinch, Newkirk, Carter and LeBeau all exchanged nervous looks.

"I want you to tell London about what's going on with this assassin business and also tell them that we will handle it and keep them informed."

"Yes, sir!" Kinch's face broke out in a wide smile as he jumped up and hurried to the tunnel entrance. He disappeared down the ladder.

"Colonel..." Carter chimed in slowly. "Does that mean what we think it means?"

"Yes, Carter my boy, it does. The only way you're gonna get rid of me is if there's no recovery after one year. And at that time, we'll find a way around that also."

The man sat quietly on his bunk watching the mini celebration between Hogan and his men. He hadn't counted on this Tucker kid to save the Colonel. Or maybe he should have just put more pills in the Colonel's coffee. He had figured by earlier leaving a small bottle of the same pills in Hogan's quarters, once Hogan was dead, everybody would have thought he had committed suicide. And his men would blame themselves believing their betrayal was the reason. He ran a hand over his hair. He wouldn't miss the next time. He might even have to add this Tucker kid to his list of people to be watched and possibly done away with. He continued watching and smiling, pretending he was as happy as everybody else about Hogan's decision to stay.

_Enjoy your celebration, Colonel Hogan,_ he told himself with a smirk on his face._ Enjoy it while you can. You don't have long to live. Both you and Burkhalter are definitely dead men! And who knows, maybe this Tucker kid will be as well!_


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

It was while at roll call the following morning that he got an idea how to get rid of Hogan once and for all. He had noticed when he was in a part of the tunnel where Hogan's men kept their cache of weapons while he was helping Carter with something that he noticed the crossbow. He figured if he could get his hands on it, he could rig it up somehow in Hogan's quarters with a string attached to the inside doorknob so when the Colonel opened the door to his quarters, it would fire the crossbow with the arrow positioned to strike Hogan directly in the heart. In addition, he would sabotage their radio as well. Getting into the tunnel and sabotaging the radio wouldn't present a problem he felt. But removing the crossbow, and setting it up in the Colonel's quarters would. He had to find a way to keep everybody out of the barracks twice. Once so he could get the crossbow, and again to get into Hogan's quarters. He was still thinking when he heard Schultz announce to the prisoners that they were to participate in one hour of exercise. He grinned at the fat guard giving him the opportunity to get into the tunnel, sabotage the radio and get the crossbow.

The abundance of prisoners started setting up the volleyball net while others were beginning a basketball game and still others were tossing a football around. Hogan, staying out of the way to avoid physical contact, had his wheelchair near a bench outside the barracks with LeBeau seated on the bench keeping him company. The man figured with prisoners coming and going in and out of the barracks, nobody would pay attention to him that much. He casually walked past Hogan and LeBeau neither of whom paid him much attention. Afterall, he was just another prisoner sharing their barracks. He noticed Hogan and LeBeau were studying the guards.

Once inside the barracks, he quickly made his way to the bunk in the corner of the room and slapped the upper bedframe. He waited until the lower bunk raised and the ladder dropped. He then quickly made his way down the ladder and in the direction of the radio room. He paused when he spotted Kinch seated at the radio receiving and copying a message. He ducked out of sight quickly before he was seen. He had to get Kinch out of the room. But how? Then, he suddenly noticed the radioman tear a sheet of paper off his pad, pull off his headset, get up, and hurry out of the radioroom. The man quickly hurried to the radio, and using a pocketknife, unscrewed and opened the back. He reached inside and rewired two of the wires before closing the back of the radio and tightening the screws. He knew he had to hurry. Finished, he then made his way to the weapons area where he spotted the crossbow lying on top of a table with other weapons along with several arrows. He grabbed two of the arrows and the crossbow before making his way back to the ladder which, to his relief, was still down. Slinging the crossbow over his shoulder, he quickly climbed the ladder and stepped into the barracks. To his relief, he didn't see anybody. He hid the crossbow and the arrows in his footlocker. He had just closed the lid of his footlocker and was climbing up onto his upper bunk when LeBeau entered the barracks. The Frenchman smiled when he saw him.

"How come you're not outside with everyone else?" he asked.

"Just don't feel like playing today, LeBeau," he said. "Last night kind of still has me a bit rattled. Thought I'd catch up on some sack time."

LeBeau nodded his head. "I understand. I'm just glad Colonel Hogan's all right." LeBeau hurried to Hogan's quarters and went inside. When he reappeared, he looked at the man again. "Have you seen anybody come in here since you've been in here? " he asked seriously.

The man shook his head. "Nobody," he lied. If he had said he saw Kinch, he knew it would be easily denied by the radioman. He noticed LeBeau was carrying several photos in his hands. He realized they were the photos of the guards Newkirk had talked about the previous evening. LeBeau started out of the door.

"LeBeau?"

"Oui?"

"How's Colonel Hogan? Is he okay?"

LeBeau shrugged. "Other than being tired, he seems all right."

"I'm glad, Louie. See ya later."

"Enjoy your sack time," the Frenchman kidded and left the barracks. Sighing, the man rested his head on a bent arm. That was too close. He'd have to be more careful. If the Frenchman had caught him, he was prepared to kill him along with anyone else who could interfere. He knew his assignment was to kill Burkhalter, but an added bonus was Hogan. That and the downfall of his entire operation. After all, Colonel Wasserman had given him free reign to do whatever he felt was necessary in addition to the death of Burkhalter. He smirked._ Hogan and anybody else he felt was a problem would simply be a casualty of war, _he thought to himself._ I've already taken care of their radio, and when somebody tries using it....well, they'd have a BIG surprise coming._

He was awakened by the sound of the other prisoners entering the barracks and realized he must have fallen asleep. He looked around and saw a smiling Hogan looking at him.

"LeBeau told me you were hiding out in here," he joked. "Feel better?"

"Yes, sir," he said jumping down from his bunk. "I feel much better now, sir."

"Glad to hear it." Hogan wheeled his chair to the table. "Have a seat, fellas."

LeBeau, Carter, Kinch and Newkirk all sat down at the table. Hogan unfolded the message Kinch had earlier given him from the underground.

"Message from Lancelot," Hogan told them. "Seems there's nobody in town who's been asking about Burkhalter. Also, those photos you gave me, LeBeau. I was comparing them to the guards in the compound during exercise period. They all match."

"Colonel?" asked Carter. "Can I ask you a question?"

"What is it, Carter?"

"Are we even sure there **is** an assassin after Burkhalter? I mean, nobody seems to have seen anybody. Also, the underground could find nobody who's even been asking questions about Burkhalter."

Newkirk lit a cigarette. "He's right, Gov'nor. I mean, this whole thing could be just a bloody trap to catch us instead."

Hogan tapped the photos on the table as he thought about what was said for a moment. "Before somebody tried to kill me I might have agreed with you both. But why try to kill me?"

"Are you kidding, Colonel?" asked LeBeau, surprise on his face. "You've made a lot of enemies since you've been here."

"True," Hogan admitted with a slight grin. "But my gut tells me this isn't about me. Or us for that matter. But, just to play it safe, I want you guys to be extra careful until we catch this guy. Understood?"

"Oui. There's no other way to be but careful," admitted LeBeau with a grin. "And you must promise us you will be extra careful as well, Colonel. I mean, you are in a wheelchair right now, and you don't have the mobility you used to. Don't hesitate to let us help."

"I won't," Hogan replied with a grim smile. "I promise." Sighing, he leaned back in his wheelchair. "Kinch, contact London. Tell them what's happened so far. Ask them if anybody we've sent to them has escaped and gotten back to Germany. I want to cover all our bases."

"Right away, Colonel." Kinch got up and approached the bunk, hitting the top bedframe. The moment the lower bunk raised and the ladder dropped, he disappeared down the ladder.

"Carter, watch the door," Hogan ordered. Carter got to his feet and cracked open the barracks door, keeping watch.

"Y'know. I just had a thought...." Hogan began, his eyes narowing.

"What's that, Colonel?" asked LeBeau.

"What if the person we're looking for...." Hogan was suddenly interrupted by the muffled scream of agony coming from the tunnel. LeBeau and Newkirk raced to the exposed tunnel opening with Hogan wheeling himself over the exposed opening to see what had happened. They all peered down into the opening.

"Kinch?! What happened? Are you all right?! Kinch!" Hogan shouted.

"I'll check and see, Colonel," Newkirk replied as he stepped onto the ladder and quickly descended into the tunnel. He raced to the radioroom where he found Kinch on the ground, shaking both his hands with tears running down his cheeks. There were sparks eminating from the radio. Acting quickly, Newkirk pulled the radio plug from it's outlet. Then, he knelt beside the radioman, a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you all right, mate?" he asked, a look of deep concern etched on his face.

"My hands," Kinch muttered. "There's no reason for the radio to short out like that. None at all."

Newkirk helped Kinch to his feet. "Can you walk?"

"I think so."

"Then let's go. I'll go on ahead and tell the Colonel to have someone get Wilson." Newkirk hurried back to the main entrance. He looked up into the faces of LeBeau, Hogan, Tucker, Benson and several others.

"What happened?" asked Hogan. "is Kinch all right?"

"We need Wilson right away, Colonel. The radio shorted out and Kinch's hands are burned. Other than that, he seems to be all right."

Hogan looked at the Frenchman. "LeBeau, find Wilson and tell him what happened."

"Oui, Colonel. Right away." LeBeau, pushing his way through the crowd, ran out of the barracks.

Carefully, Kinch, using his elbows to lean against each rung on the ladder, slowly climbed up and stepped into the barracks with Newkirk behind him in case he needed help. As Hogan and the others helped Kinch to the table, Newkirk hit the hidden mechansim on the upper bedframe and watched the lower bunk drop. Then he too, joined the others at the table. He took a look at Kinch's burned hands. "Blimey!" was all he could utter.

"Kinch, what happened?" asked Hogan, deep concern etched on his face. Kinch looked at him.

"I was about to send your message to London. As soon as I began sending the radio suddenly shorted out."

"Is the radio working at all?"

"I couldn't tell you until I have a chance to look at it. But Colonel, as I told Newkirk, there's no reason for that radio to short out like that. No reason at all."

"Not unless somebody sabotaged it," Hogan remarked. He turned as the barracks door open and he saw LeBeau return with Wilson.

"What happened, Colonel?" he asked, put his medical bag on the table.

"Take care of Kinch, Joe," Hogan told him.

About an hour later Kinch, his hands bandaged, was laying down on his bunk resting.

"How is he, Joe?" asked Hogan. "Will he be all right?"

Wilson ran a hand over his hair. "He's got first and some second degree burns on both hands," he explained. "I put an ointment on his hands and bandaged them. He's been given an injection of antibiotics in case of infection.I also gave him an injection for the pain." He handed Hogan a syringe, a small bottle and written instructions. You have enough here for two to three days for pain. He needs rest right now, but he should be all right in a few days. He's very lucky. From what I understand, he could have been electrocuted."

There was an anger building in Hogan at this point. Coming after him was one thing. But not his men! That was something he would never accept! Hogan shook hands with the medical officer. "Thanks, Joe," was all he said.

Wilson could tell from Hogan's face that it was better to leave the Colonel alone right now. "I'll check on both you and Kinch later today," he said before grabbing his bag and leaving the barracks.

Kinch leaned on one elbow after Wilson had gone. "Colonel, I can go check the radio and see what happened."

"It'll keep, Kinch. You're not going anywhere right now. You need to rest. And if necessary, I'll have Wilson sedate you. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." Kinch lay back down on this back.

"Good." Hogan then looked at Newkirk, Carter and LeBeau. "I think we have an even bigger problem than I thought at first," he said angrily. "What if this person is not a guard at all. What if he's a prisoner in this very camp?"

The man looked at Hogan when he heard that. He knew Hogan was a formidable adversary, wheelchair or not. He needed to get rid of him now. He thought about the crossbow and arrows in his footlocker. He also thought about that sealed letter the incompetent Kommandant had put in his safe with Burkhalter's name in it. It was suppose to be picked up within seventy-two hours by an underground operative posing as someone when Hogan's men were carrying out their phony mission. And there were still about twenty-four hours left. He needed to find a way to contact Wasserman and arrange for someone to come into camp and pick up that envelope. That might take some of the heat off and enable him to get into Hogan's quarters and set up the crossbow that would kill a Colonel.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

He made it a point on watching Hogan and his men as much as possible. He had watched the Colonel send Newkirk into the tunnel to check the radio and determine if it had been tampered with. A little more than an hour later the Englander returned and reported that a thorough examination of the radio showed two of the wires had been crossed with two other wires causing a short when the radio was used. It was really too bad, he thought with a smile. It had been fun secretly using Hogan's secret radio to make contact with his own superior, Colonel Wasserman. If Hogan only knew....

"It was definitely tampered with, Colonel," Newkirk reported. "But I suppose it could be fixed temporarily to allow some short-term usage. But I'm afraid you're gonna have to get some parts to replace the damaged ones if you want the radio working again as it should."

Hogan sighed wearily. "This person, whoever he is, is obviously very thorough."

"Colonel...." Kinch, getting up from his bunk, sat down at the table. "....if Newkirk comes with me to the radioroom, I can instruct him what to do to get the radio working temporarily."

Hogan let out a deep breath. "Normally I would say no, Kinch. But we need that radio. Go ahead. But be careful with your hands. Newkirk, go with him."

Kinch smiled. Using his elbows instead of his hands, Kinch slowly manuevered his way down the ladder with Newkirk behind him.

"You really think this assassin could be a prisoner in this camp, Colonel?" asked LeBeau.

Hogan folded his arms. "It's the only other thing that makes any sense," he said. "And it would explain how this person gained access to the tunnel, the radio and our barracks."

"Then what are we gonna do, Colonel?" asked Carter, worried.

"For one....whenever we need to discuss anything, from this moment on until this man is caught, we will go into my quarters and close the door. That way, hopefully, we'll be able to contain the information we discuss as well as our plans."

"Mon Colonel, perhaps we should first check the barracks and your quarters for listening devices, just in case."

Hogan nodded. "Good idea, LeBeau. You and Carter see to it."

"Oui, Colonel. Let's go, Carter." LeBeau and Carter immediately got up and began searching the barracks for hidden listening devices.

Hogan ran a hand over his dark hair. He glanced around the barracks and at each man individually. He hated thinking one of the men he shared barracks two with could be an assassin as well as a traitor. Also, there was no doubt in Hogan's mind that whoever it was probably knew all about their operation. That had been proven to him when the radio had been sabotaged. But how to draw this person out?

Tucker approached the table carrying two coffee cups. He handed one to Hogan. He sat down.

"You okay, Colonel?" he asked, sipping his coffee.

Hogan took a sip of coffee. "I hate this," he said to no-one in particular. "I really hate this. I'm finding it hard to believe one of the men in this barracks could be responsible."

"Any suspects yet?"

"None. This person covers his tracks very well."

He watched the Frenchman and Carter as they searched the entire barracks before entering the Colonel's quarters. He knew they wouldn't find anything. But he figured once the entire search was completed, it would be a great idea to **then** plant a listening device in Hogan's quarters. He'd do it when he set up the crossbow. But first things first. He had to get Hogan and some of the men out of the barracks for several hours. He would then make arrangements to get the other men out of the way for awhile as well. This would give him the chance to plant the listening device and set up the crossbow.

Newkirk and Kinch emerged from the tunnel. Newkirk activated the hidden mechanism and watched as the lower bunk dropped. Then, he and Kinch sat down at the table. "Well, sir, the radio's temporarily working," Newkirk replied. "But we have no idea how long it'll work without new parts."

"Good work, both of you," Hogan replied. "Newkirk, were you able to send that message about the assassin to London?"

"Yes, sir. London said to keep them informed of the situation. We also informed them about the situation with the radio and that we might be going off the air unexpectedly at any time until we get new parts. "

"Good." Hogan continued drinking his coffee. Soon, LeBeau and Carter rejoined them at the table. Hogan looked at them.

"All clear, Colonel," Carter informed Hogan. "We couldn't find any listening devices anywhere."

Newkirk appeared puzzled. "Listening devices?"

"Umm-hmmm. I'm not taking any chances. I wanted this barracks checked for bugs just in case our friend was listening to our conversations from outside the barracks. And I'll tell you and Kinch what I told Carter and LeBeau. Until this guy is caught, we discuss everything, and I mean** everything, **in my quarters with the door shut. This way we can hopefully limit this person's access to information."

Newkirk ran a hand over his brown hair. "This is ruddy depressing it is," he admitted. "To think we might have a traitor in our own barracks."

"Oui," LeBeau agreed. "And I know how to take care of monsieur traitor when we catch him." LeBeau ran a forefinger across his throat in a slicing motion.

"Enough," Hogan said. "Let's continue this in my quarters." He eased his wheelchair away from the table. Carter got behind it and started pushing with Newkirk, Kinch and LeBeau trailing. Once inside, Newkirk closed the door. He, Kinch and Carter all sat on Hogan's bunk, LeBeau pulled out the chair behind the desk and straddled it. Hogan was in the center of the room. He leaned back in his wheelchair, arms folded. "I think it's safe to say our mystery man is definitely not one of the guards. Nobody in town is asking questions about Burkhalter. And there's been no attempt made against the General as yet. I wonder why."

Kinch shrugged. "Maybe he hasn't had a chance yet."

Newkirk lit a cigarette. "Maybe he's not really after the old tub of lard afterall, Colonel. Maybe all this is a scheme and he's really after you."

Newkirk, Carter, Kinch and LeBeau all exchanged worried looks. They then all faced Hogan.

"It's certainly a possibilty," Hogan mused. "But I don't think so. I still believe the target is Burkhalter. I mean, look at it. If he wanted to kill me, I'm certain he would've found a way. No. I think he wanted to get me out of the way, either temporarily....or permanently. And as far as the radio goes, I think he wants to cut us off from the outside world because without the radio, we have no contact with anybody on the outside."

"Colonel...." Newkirk took a long drag on his cigarette before continuing. "Do you think he's working for someone?"

"It's possible, Newkirk. And if he is, he'll have to make contact with him at some point. If he hasn't already."

"What are you thinking, Colonel?" asked Carter. "Are you saying he might have used our own radio to contact his superiors?"

"That's exactly what I'm thinking, Carter," Hogan replied. He appeared lost in thought for a long moment. "I want you fellas to make sure you gather anything you want to take with you just in case. Kinch, I want you and Newkirk to go through all our codes, charts and papers and pack whatever you think might be important. Also, I want Carter to make certain to have time charges on the radio equipment and in the tunnels. There can be nothing left to expose what we've been doing."

"Why?" asked LeBeau, worried.

"If this man used our radio to contact his superior, it's possible our entire operation's been compromised. I want you fellas to be ready to leave at a moment's notice."

The men all looked at each other, worried.

"What about you, Colonel?" asked Kinch. "Shouldn't you...."

"Don't worry about me," Hogan said. "I'll be all right."

"Beggin' the Colonel's pardon," Newkirk interrupted. "But none of us is going anywhere without you. We won't leave you behind, sir. We can't and we won't. Especially not now."

"Newkirk's right, Colonel," agreed LeBeau. "If you don't go, we don't go."

Hogan sighed, annoyance showing on his face. "LeBeau...."

"There's no use arguing with us, Colonel," the little Frenchman stood his ground. "We either all leave together, or we all stay together. And that's the way it will be. So do not argue with us. It is four against one."

And I'm a Colonel, and I outrank all of you. So what I say goes."

"Sorry, Colonel. But this is one order we won't obey," Kinch remarked, ready to argue if need be. "I agree with Louie."

"So do I, sir," added Carter.

"Me, too, Gov'nor," Newkirk chimed in. He smiled. "I believe the motion is carried. So don't try pulling rank on us."

Hogan, a grin on his face, could only shake his head in amazement. He always knew his men were loyal, but up until this very moment, he never realized how fiercely loyal. They were willing to risk death themselves rather than leave him behind.

"Okay," he said, defeated. "I know when I'm outnumbered."

"Now that that's settled," Kinch muttered, "Just what are we going to do about this guy?"

"For starters," Hogan said. "As of this moment anything we discuss in here stays in here. Nothing we discuss is repeated to anybody outside of this room. And I'm afraid that includes Wilson, Benson and Tucker. Understood?"

"Understood, Colonel," Carter said softly. The other three nodded their agreement.

The barracks were dark as all the men slept, except one. He sat up on his bunk and quietly climbed down to the floor. Putting on his jacket, he silently cracked open the door and exited. But his departure had not gone unnoticed. Newkirk was still awake in his bunk and had seen the man leave. Curious, he quietly got up and climbed down to the floor. He quickly dressed and exited the barracks. He made it outside just in time to see someone hurrying in the direction of the Kommandant's office. He followed at a safe distance. He suspected whoever it was more than likely was the assassin. If he could catch him it would hopefully take some of the pressure off Colonel Hogan.

Newkirk watched as the mystery man climbed through the window, closing it behind him. He waited for about two minutes outside the window. Looking around, Newkirk now wished he had awakened somebody else to accompany him. He silently opened the window and climbed inside. It was dark and he couldn't see anybody. Just as he stepped inside something heavy struck him on the head, knocking him unconcious. Newkirk collasped in a heap on the floor.

The man stood over him, a bookend in one hand. He looked down at the unconcious Englander, smiling.

"You couldn't mind your own business, could you?" he asked the unconcious Englander. He put the bookend back where it had been. He had seen Newkirk following him. Kneeling down, he pressed two fingers against Newkirk's neck. The pulse was strong. He stood up.

"I'll deal with you in a minute." He sat down behind Klink's desk and dialed a telephone number. "Guten abend," his American voice now replaced by a German one. "This is Fredrik Heidelman. Let me speak with Colonel Wasserman, bitte. Danke. I will wait." After a minute or two. "Colonel Wasserman. Heil Hitler! Fredrik Heidelman here. Fine, Herr Colonel. And you? Excellent! Nein. My first attempt to kill Colonel Hogan did not succeed. But I am going to try again. As far as Burkhalter is concerned, I will deal with him as soon as I get rid of the American Colonel. Nein. The fools do not suspect me at all. Herr Colonel, I need you to order a work detail for as soon as possible. I must get Colonel Hogan and his men out of the barracks for a few hours in order to set up my trap for him in his quarters. And one other thing, Herr Colonel. I need a man wearing civilian clothes going by the name of Erik Hofferman to come to Stalag 13 and ask to see the Kommandant. He must then ask the Kommandant to hand over a sealed envelope that the Kommandant had been given two days ago. Danke, Herr Colonel. Ja, I have already sabotaged their radio. I also plan to plant a listening device in the Colonel's quarters. Nein. I am using the telephone in the Kommandant's office. Jawohl. I will keep in touch when possible, Herr Colonel. Heil Hitler! Auf Wiedersehen." He then hung up the phone and looked over again at the unconcious Newkirk. "I must get rid of you. I cannot have you interferring in my plans for your Colonel Hogan."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

LeBeau was the first to rise the in the morning. Scurrying about, he began preparing breakfast. Smelling the aroma of LeBeau's cooking, other men in the barracks began to stir.

Waking, Tucker and Benson both hurriedly dressed and entered Hogan's quarters. Hogan was awake and reading a book.

"Ready to rise and shine, Colonel?" asked Benson, smiling.

"Not really," Hogan said with a grin. "But who wants to sleep the entire day away. Besides, the aroma of LeBeau's cooking is driving me insane."

Tucker smiled. "I know what you mean, sir. LeBeau said he's fixing all of your favorites this morning. Scrambled eggs, sausage, toast, coffee. The works."

Hogan sighed. "Then I better not keep him waiting or he'll never let me forget it."

Kinch and Carter seated themselves at the table. Kinch looked at his bandaged hands. Hogan had given him another injection of the pain killer before going to bed. His hands stung from the pain, but Kinch figured he could deal with it. LeBeau looked at him. "Want some breakfast, Kinch? Carter?"

"You bet," Carter exclaimed. "I'm starved!"

"I'm glad, mon ami," LeBeau replied enthusiastically. "But we must first wait for Colonel Hogan and Newkirk."

"None for me, thanks, LeBeau," Kinch remarked. "Just coffee."

Putting a cup in front of Kinch, the Frenchman poured the coffee.

"Thanks," was all Kinch said. He had a bit of difficulty picking up the cup with his hands, but he managed to hold it gingerly. He looked at Newkirk's empty bunk. "Seems like Newkirk must be already up and out. His bunk's empty."

Both Carter and LeBeau turned and looked. LeBeau shrugged and returned to his cooking. "Must have left the barracks," he said. "He'll be back soon."

"Wonder where he is?" asked Carter, wondering the whereabouts of his best friend. He knew Newkirk was not an early riser.

"Who knows," replied Kinch with a grin. "He'll turn up sooner or later when he gets hungry."

"Who will turn up when he's hungry?" a voice asked.

The men turned to look. Colonel Hogan had entered the room with Benson and Tucker behind him. He wheeled himself up to the stove. He grinned. "Smells good, LeBeau. I'm starved."

"Newkirk, Colonel," said Kinch.

Hogan nodded. " He noticed the Englander's empty bunk. "Where is Newkirk?"

"Don't know, sir," replied Carter. "Nobody's seen him since last night when we all turned in."

A nagging feeling began to manifest itself in Hogan's mind. And try as he might, he couldn't make it go away. He looked at Carter. "Carter, go outside and see if you can find Newkirk."

"Right now, Colonel?" Carter complained. "It's almost time for breakfast."

"Yes, Carter. Right now. I'll make sure LeBeau saves you some breakfast. Now go." He glanced at LeBeau as he put a plate in front of him.

"Yes, sir, Colonel." Carter got up and hurried out the door into the compound.

"What's wrong, Colonel?" asked Kinch, concern appearing when he saw Hogan's face.

"I'm not sure," Hogan replied between bites of food. "Something isn't sitting right with me. Besides, it isn't like Newkirk not to be here first thing in the morning. We all know he's not what you call an early riser."

It was an hour later when Carter walked back into the barracks. He seemed concerned as he sat down at the table. LeBeau placed a plate in front of him and a cup of hot coffee.

"Well?" asked Hogan.

"It's weird, Colonel," Carter explained as he ate. "I looked everywhere for him. I couldn't find him anywhere."

"Are you **sure** you looked everywhere?" asked Hogan, fear beginning to eat at his insides.

"Yes, sir. Everywhere. I even asked Schultz if he had seen him. He said no. It's almost like he's vanished into thin air, Colonel."

Hogan began rubbing his forehead as a headache started to form. "I was afraid you were going to say that, Carter," he replied.

Kinch looked at LeBeau and Carter before again facing Hogan. "What are you thinking, Colonel?" he asked, beginning to share his commanding officer's fears.

"My gut is telling me our friend is involved in Newkirk's disappearance."

LeBeau, Carter and Kinch all exchanged frightened looks. Then, LeBeau asked the question nobody wanted to ask. "Do you think he is dead, Colonel?" he asked softly.

Hogan looked at the little Frenchman. He too, had been think the same thing but didn't want to say it out loud. "I don't know, LeBeau," was all he could utter. Hogan's headache was starting to intensify. "There's only two possibilities here. Newkirk's either alive and a hostage of our friend. Or...." he swallowed an imaginary lump that was beginning to form. "....he's dead."

He watched Hogan's reaction over the missing Englander. He smiled inwardly. _You'll never find him, Colonel_, he told himself. _But I'll have fun watching you try. And then, when you least expect it, Colonel Hogan, you'll be dead and what happened to your Englishman won't matter_.

"Which do you think, Colonel?" asked Kinch softly.

Hogan sighed, suddenly very tired. "Kinch, I want to believe he's alive. But we've all seen how how our friend operates. So there's a very good possibility Newkirk's dead."

A heavy silence fell over Hogan, Carter, Kinch and LeBeau as Hogan's last sentence sank in.

"Well I for one refuse to believe Newkirk's dead," LeBeau muttered. "Not without a body."

The others all looked at him. The lack of a body only gave the group a tiny shred of hope to hang on to.

"Better yet," Kinch said. "What are we gonna say at roll call which will be in a little less than an hour from now."

"We better come up with something fast," Hogan replied. "Once Klink finds out Newkirk's missing, he'll assume he's escaped. And Burkhalter being here will only complicate things." A grim smile suddenly appeared as an idea occured to Hogan. "LeBeau, use the tunnel and go to barracks eleven and get Corporal Dennison."

"Oui, Colonel. But why?"

"Because he's about Newkirk's age, height and weight and he even resembles Newkirk a bit. We're gonna dress him up in one of Newkirk's uniforms and have him stand in formation at roll call. That might buy us a little time."

"Right away, Colonel." The Frenchman hurriedly struck the upper bedframe and the minute the lower bunk raised, disappeared down the ladder.

"Baker, watch the door."

"Right, Colonel." The young man cracked open the barracks door to stand watch.

"Having Dennison stand in for Newkirk will fool Schultz, Colonel," said Kinch. "But do you think it'll fool Klink and Burkhalter?"

"Klink'll believe it if Schultz tells him all prisoners are present and accounted for. Burkhalter is another problem. But I haven't seen him appear at any of the previous roll calls since he's been here. He's been keeping pretty much of a low profile."

He continued watching and listening. Even he had to admire the American Colonel's ingenuity at solving problems as they arose. Too bad he wouldn't be able to solve the problem of saving his own life or that of Burkhalter's. Jumping down off his bunk where'd he been sitting, he grabbed a coffee cup and poured himself some coffee. He then sat down at the table with the others.

"Anything I can do, Colonel?" he asked sincerely.

Hogan looked at the young man with a deep sigh. "There's nothing," he said quietly. "But thanks for asking."

He shrugged. "Just yell if you need anything, sir. Be glad to help."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Just then, LeBeau emerged from the tunnel with a young brown-haired Corporal behind him. LeBeau struck the hidden mechanism and watched the bunk drop over the tunnel entrance. The Frenchman brought Dennison to the Colonel. "Colonel, meet Corporal Jonathan Dennison, USAAF. Corporal, Colonel Robert Hogan."

"Colonel," Dennison replied as he saluted Hogan.

Hogan returned the salute. "At ease, Corporal," he replied. Hogan knew Dennison resembled Newkirk. But up close he noticed the resemblance was more than he believed. The only difference was that Dennison wasn't British. "Coffee, Corporal?" asked Hogan.

"Please," was all Dennison said. LeBeau hastily got an empty cup and poured it halfway with coffee. "Thanks," he told LeBeau.

"Corporal, we need your help," explained Hogan carefully. "We need you to stand in for one of our men at roll call this morning."

Dennison was taken aback momentarily as he sipped the hot coffee. "But won't the Krauts know I'm not your missing man, Colonel?"

"I doubt it, Corporal. You resemble him enough to fool them at a distance. Just don't say anything if you're asked a question because you're not British. Will you do it?"

"Sure, Colonel."

Hogan smiled warmly at the man. He then glanced at the Frenchman. "LeBeau, get one of Newkirk's uniforms from his footlocker. Corporal, you can change in my quarters. And don't take too long. Roll call is...." Hogan checked his watch. "....in thirty minutes."

"Oui, Colonel.," LeBeau replied. He began rummanging through the Englander's footlocker and brought out Newkirk's extra uniform. He handed it to Dennison who hurriedly finished his coffee and then went inside Hogan's quarters to change. In fifteen minutes he emerged, putting Newkirk's cap on his head. Hogan and the others could only gape as they looked. It was almost like looking at a twin.

"Will I pass inspection, Colonel Hogan?" Dennison asked, unsure.

"You might even fool Burkhalter," Hogan replied. "Just remember, you're Corporal Peter Newkirk, not Jonathan Dennison. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

Just then, the barracks door opened and Schultz barged in. "Achtung! All prisoners outside for roll call! Raus! Roll call!"

Hogan eased his wheelchair away from the table. "Just hold your horses, Schultz," Hogan remarked. "We're coming."

"Let's go, Colonel Hogan," Schultz ordered. "Raus!"

The men slowly began filing out the door for roll call. Carter was pushing Hogan's wheelchair with Kinch following, keeping his hands in his pockets. Dennison kept his head slightly bowed as he passed by the rotund guard without incident.

"What's the emergency, Schultzie"" asked LeBeau innocently.

"General Burkhalter will be attending this morning's roll call, cockroach," Schultz replied. "And I don't need any trouble from you or the others."

LeBeau playfully poked Schultz in the stomach. "Would we cause you trouble, Schultzie?"

"Yes you would," Schultz replied just as innocently. "But not today if you don't mind. Now, everybody fall in line for roll call!"

LeBeau glanced at Hogan who caught a glimpse of Klink and Burkhalter approaching as Schultz began counting each prisoner. Fortunately, the guard didn't notice any difference when he counted Dennison and continued counting.

Finishing his count, Schultz turned and saluted both Klink and Burkhalter. "Herr Kommandant, Herr General, all prisoners present and accounted for."

Both Klink and Burkhalter returned the salute. "Very good, Schultz," Klink replied. He turned to Burkhalter and saluted. "Herr General, do you wish to address the prisoners?"

Burkhalter saluted the Kommandant. "It is not necessary, Klink. You may dismiss your prisoners."

"Jawohl, Herr General." He turned towards Schultz. "Schultz, dismiss your men." He spun around and accompanied Burkhalter in the direction of the Kommandant's office.

Schultz turned around and faced the prisoners. "All prisoners are disssssmissssed," he announced. He turned and walked away.

As the prisoners dispersed, LeBeau, Kinch, Carter and Dennison gathered around Hogan who was watching Burkhalter and Klink retreat into Klink's office.

"Your plan was manifique!" said LeBeau. "Nobody even noticed it wasn't Newkirk in the formation."

"This time," Hogan replied. "But we can't keep this up indefinitely. Sooner or later Klink's gonna know Newkirk is missing. And then we're gonna have a whole peck of trouble."


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Wilson entered barracks two right after roll call to check on his two patients. Unbandaging Kinch's hands, he closely examined the burned flesh. Wilson admitted it looked a lot worse than it was. "This is going to hurt a bit," he told the radioman. "But I have to clean these before I put more ointment of them and put fresh wrappings on them."

"Just do it, doc," Kinch said with more courage than he felt. He winced as the medic proceeded to clean the burned areas. Done, Wilson then applied an ointment and wrapped both hands with fresh bandages. He then removed a syringe from his bag along with a bottle of antibiotics. He rolled up Kinch's sleeve and gave him another injection of anitibiotics, followed by another injection of a pain killer.

"Thanks, doc," Kinch replied with a faint smile. Wilson patted Kinch's shoulder. "Your hands are beginning to heal, Kinch. You should be all right after awhile. Now, where is Colonel Hogan?"

"In his quarters, I think," Kinch replied. He watched Wilson close his bag and get up. "Joe?"

Wilson stopped. "What is it?" he asked.

"It's Colonel Hogan. He was up and about only a few hours after nearly dying from that drug he was given and he's been on the go since then. I'm worried about him."

Wilson smiled. "I'll take a look and see. I have to examine him regarding his back anyway. Try not to worry."

Hogan sat in his wheelchair looking out the open window in his quarters wondering what happened to Newkirk. What if he was dead? Hogan felt he had let the Englander down. But he promised himself if that Newkirk was dead, he would see to it this person paid and paid dearly. He heard someone knock on the closed door.

"Come in," he said softly. He really didn't want any visitors right now.

The door opened, and Wilson entered, smiling at Colonel Hogan. "Time for your examination, Colonel," he said.

"Later Joe. I have too much to do right now. Maybe later."

"**Now**, Colonel." Wilson was determined not to be put off this time. He could see from Hogan's haggard appearance that the Colonel obviously wasn't getting much sleep. "I want to check you over and see how you're doing after almost dying the other day, and I want to check your back as well. If you remember, you did fall from your wheelchair after you tipped it over with you in it."

This time Hogan turned the wheelchair around so he could face Wilson directly. "Joe, I don't need an exam. I feel fine. Really."

"For somebody who supposedly feels fine, you look like hell!" Wilson told him with just as much determination as Hogan. "It's obvious you aren't sleeping well. Now, you will either let me examine you, Colonel Hogan, or I will call a few of your men in here and I will have them tie you down so I can examine you. Which is it going to be?"

Hogan stared at the medic. "You'd do it too, wouldn't you?" he asked with a smirk.

"In a minute," Wilson replied seriously.

Hogan sighed as he began to unbutton his shirt. "That won't be necessary. But you and I are gonna have to have a long talk one of these days regarding your bedside manner, Joe. It stinks!"

Wilson smiled as he sat his bag down on Hogan's desk and opened it, removing a stethoscope. "So I've been told by you repeatedly."

LeBeau, Carter and Kinch were all seated at the table. LeBeau could only stare at the table and draw a circle on it with his finger. "I hope Newkirk's alive," he said. "I can't picture this barracks without him."

"Me neither," added Carter. "I mean, where could he have gone? A person can't just disappear into thin air."

Kinch shrugged. "I agree with Colonel Hogan. I think our friend's involved in this somehow. I only wish I knew how and why he grabbed Newkirk."

Carter, never one to hide his emotions, hung his head. "Kinch, do you think Newkirk's alive?" he asked in a strained voice.

Kinch mulled over his answer. He knew Carter and Newkirk were the best of friends, and that Carter was suffering internally more than everyone else. "I don't know, Andrew. I really don't. I hope so. Like LeBeau, I can't picture this place without him either."

"What did the doctor say about your hands, mon ami?" LeBeau asked Kinch. "Will they be all right?"

Kinch looked at his bandaged hands. "He seems to think so, Louie. It's just gonna take time."

"I saw him go into Colonel Hogan's quarters not too long ago. What do suppose is happening?"

Kinch shrugged. "Hopefully after Joe finishes with his examination of the Colonel, he'll find everything's okay."

He approached the table where Hogan's men were sitting. He lit a cigarette. "Hey," he said. "I haven't seen Newkirk all day and he missed roll call. How come?" he asked trying to sound innocent.

Kinch and LeBeau only exchanged looks. They remembered the Colonel's warning not to discuss anything with anybody else in the barracks.

"Maybe he escaped," LeBeau remarked.

"Must've done it during the night sometime," Kinch added.

He shrugged, considering their explanations. He looked at Carter's hounddog expression. "Carter? You okay?"

"I'm fine. Just leave me alone, all right?" Carter got up and left the barracks.

"What's going on?" asked Hogan as he and Wilson joined the others at the table. He looked at each man separately. "What's wrong with Carter?"

"I guess it's my fault, Colonel," the man said. "I didn't mean to upset him. I only asked where Newkirk was. I mean, he did miss roll call this morning, sir."

"And we already told you that he must have escaped sometime during the night," LeBeau repeated.

"You have to understand," Hogan said, "Carter and Newkirk are very close friends. So when Newkirk escaped it hit Carter very hard." Hogan hated lying to a fellow prisoner, but it couldn't be helped. It was a necessity.

"Sorry, sir," the man said getting up and leaving the barracks. Hogan watched him leave. Then turned his attention back to LeBeau and Kinch. "You fellas okay?"

"We're all right, mon Colonel. It's just not knowing about Newkirk that's frustrating, especially for Carter."

Wilson patted Hogan's shoulder. "I'll be back in two or three days to check Kinch's hands again and change the dressing. He looked directly into Hogan's brown eyes. "My prescription for you, Colonel, is to get some rest. You can't afford to develop any complications."

"Complications?" The word caught Kinch's ears. "What complications?" He and LeBeau both looked at Hogan first, and when no explanation was forthcoming from Hogan, turned to Wilson for one.

"Colonel Hogan's lower back seemed to suffer no complications from when he fell out of his wheelchair the other day. In fact, the swelling is going down nicely but slowly. And there doesn't seem to be any complications from the drug he ingested the other day. His only problems are he's exhausted and not getting enough sleep. I don't want to have to sedate him."

"Joe. I'll rest when this entire mess is over."

Rolling his eyes towards the heavens, Wilson looked at Kinch and LeBeau. "I'm putting you both in charge of making sure he gets some rest. If he doesn't I will sedate him so he does." Wilson glanced at Hogan. "And that's a promise." He then left the barracks.

Both men looked at their commanding officer. "Colonel, Joe's right. You're exhausted. You should lay down and get some sleep. We can handle things for awhile," said Kinch gently. "I promise we'll wake you if anything important happens."

Hogan shook his head. His headache was back again. "Don't you start with me, Kinch. I can't rest while everything is happening. And Newkirk is missing as well. I need to be doing something to help find him."

"But you won't be any good to anybody including Newkirk if you make yourself ill or you collaspe, mon Colonel."

"I'll rest later." Hogan suddenly held up a hand as both men were about to protest. "And that's the end of the discussion. Right now we have work to do."

He fought hard to control his laughter once he was outside the barracks. He noticed that Hogan looked as if he was on the verge of collasping from sheer exhaustion. And that excuse they had come up with when he asked about Newkirk. Saying he had escaped during the night almost had him laughing right there in the barracks. He kept wondering when Colonel Wasserman was going to contact Klink and order that work detail so he could get into Hogan's quarters. He suddenly noticed a car coming through the main gates. He opened the barracks door. "Car coming through the main gates," he announced, sounding surprised. He knew it wasn't a military car, but a civilian one. He watched as Kinch, LeBeau and a few others hurried to the door to have a look, while Hogan, as he had since his back injury, stayed at the table.

"Who is it?" he asked. "Gestapo?"

"Hard to tell, Colonel," said Kinch, looking over his shoulder at the Colonel. "Looks like a civilian car of some kind. There's somebody getting out wearing civlian clothes. He's going into Klink's office."

Hogan wheeled himself inside his quarters and had the coffee pot plugged in by the time LeBeau, Kinch and Carter arrived. Carter closed the door.

"Heil Hitler, Colonel Klink. My name is Erik Hofferman." He adjusted his glasses and removed his hat.

"Heil Hitler," Klink said motioning for Hofferman to have a seat, but Hofferman declined.

"I cannot stay, Colonel," he said. "I am here to pick up an envelope left with you a few days ago by a Major Von Tassel and a Henrik Claussen."

Carter, Kinch and LeBeau froze when they heard the name of Hofferman. They looked at each other. Even Hogan looked confused.

"Yes sir," Klink replied going to his safe. "It's right here in my safe where I put it since Herr Claussen gave it to me." Klink turned the dial on his safe and after a minute or two, finally opened it. He removed the sealed envelope and handed it to Hofferman.

"Danke, Colonel." Hofferman put the envelope inside his inner coat pocket.

"Herr Hofferman, aren't you going to open it?" asked Klink.

"I will open it later, Colonel. I prefer to be alone when it's opened."

Klink smiled. "Can one ask what's in that envelope, Herr Hofferman?"

Hofferman's face became a mask of anger. "No one may not!" he said loudly. "The contents of this envelope are not for anyone's eyes except mine! Good day, Kommandant. Heil Hitler!" He put on his hat, turned, and walked out before Klink could even get his own 'Heil Hitler' out of his mouth. He sat down behind his desk as the door closed.

Hogan pulled the plug from the coffee pot. "That was very strange," he said.

"Y'know, Colonel, when we set up our phony mission to try and help you...." began Kinch slowly, "....we had decided that a member of the underground posing as a civilian named Erik Hofferman was to come to Stalag 13 and pick up the envelope that had been given to Klink within seventy-two hours."

"It's like somebody's copied our phony mission," said Carter, confused.

"Mon Colonel," LeBeau added, "Why do you think someone would copy our phony mission?"

Hogan folded his arms. His eyes narrowed. "Hmmmm. Sounds like our friend is at work again."

"How do you mean, Colonel?" asked Carter.

"I mean....if that envelope hadn't been picked up, Klink would probably have opened it and would have seen Burkhalter's name inside. He might have figured out that whoever threatened Burkhalter might be trying to include him in the assassination plot against the General. And if Klink is suspected of being involved, Burkhalter would undoubtedly have him arrested and shot. And we get a new Kommandant. I believe our friend, for whatever reason, wants Klink to stay put as Kommandant."

Newkirk tried to free himself from the handcuffs that manacled his arms behind his back, without success. In addition, the tape across his mouth kept him from making any sounds to alert anybody where he was. Also, he had been blindfolded. The handcuffs had a chain attached to them that was attached to the leg of a cot. Newkirk had no idea where he was as he had been unconcious when he was brought here. He wasn't even sure if he was still in Stalag 13 anymore. By the time he had regained conciousness, he was already bound, gagged and blindfolded. But he remembered clearly who he had seen leaving the barracks. Newkirk struggled again to try and get free. He knew he had to. He had to warn Colonel Hogan that his life was in danger from this person the Colonel, LeBeau, Kinch and Carter considered a friend.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Klink was busy working at the mound of paperwork on his desk when his phone rang. Groaning at the interruption, Klink picked up the telephone. "Stalag 13, Heil Hitler," he said, annoyance in his voice. "Who?" Suddenly Klink shuddered. All annoyance gone from his voice. "Yes, Colonel Wasserman. Of course I knew it was you, sir. It was just a little joke, sir. What's that? A work detail? But.....that is to say....yes,sir...shut up and do as I'm told. I'll see to it at once, Colonel Wasserman. Auf Wiedersehen. Heil Hitler." Klink hung up nervously. He knew Wasserman was of the same rank, but Wasserman had eleven years on Klink where his date-of-rank was concerned. And he was a favorite of the Fuhrer himself and that made Klink extremely nervous. He began wringing his hands. He could only hope Wasserman had accepted his apology. If he hadn't, Klink could see snowflakes in his future. He shuddered at the thought.

"Schuuuuultz!!!!" he yelled, drawing it out.

The door opened a moment later and the rotund Sergeant ambled inside. He came to attention. "Herr Kommandant, Sergeant Schultz reporting as ordered."

"Schultz, I want you to got to barracks two and tell Colonel Hogan he is to have six of his men ready for a work detail in ten minutes. The main road just outside Hammelburg needs to be repaired. You will take two extra guards with you to make sure there are no escapes. Is that clear?"

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant. It shall be done at once." Schultz saluted the Kommandant.

Klink saluted his Sergeant-at-arms. "Disssmissssed!"

Schultz spun around and exited Klink's office as the Kommandant continued looking nervous and seeing snowflakes.

Hogan, Kinch, LeBeau and Carter were all seated at the table when the door opened and Schultz entered. Each man looked around but didn't come to attention. "What is it this time, Schultz?" asked Hogan, drinking a cup of coffee.

"Colonel Hogan, the Kommandant wants me to order you to have six men ready in ten minutes for a work detail. The main road just outside Hammelburg needs repair."

"Why should we, Schultzie?" asked LeBeau, faking interest. "We already met our quota for work details this month."

"Don't start with me, LeBeau!" Schultz groaned. "I have my orders."

Hogan smirked."Orders, smorders," he said." He looked up at the Sergeant, a mischievous twinkle in his tired eyes. "I have an idea, Schultz. Why don't you get that little Corporal with the mustache to do the work. Now what is his name...? Oh, come on, Schultz. You know the guy.... "

"Colonel Hogan, please....don't give me a hard time today."

Hogan suddenly snapped his fingers. "Now I remember. It's old bubblehead."

Schultz groaned and rolled his eyes. He again looked at Hogan, eyes pleading. "Please, Colonel Hogan, I'm begging you...."

Hogan smiled. "Okay, Schultz. I'll have the men ready in ten minutes. "

Schultz sighed wearily. "Danke, Colonel Hogan." Schultz turned and walked out.

Carter looked at his commanding officer. "Are we really going on that work detail, Colonel?" he asked.

"We really don't have much choice," Hogan explained, massaging his forehead. "If we refuse, it just might arouse suspicion with Klink and Burkhalter. Besides, it'll give me a chance to meet with our underground contact and have the underground check around and see if they can find out anything about Newkirk." Finishing his coffee, Hogan looked over his shoulder. "Baker, contact Lancelot. Tell him I need to meet with him on the main road just outside Hammelburg in two hours."

"Right, Colonel."

He couldn't believe his luck. Wasserman had come through. He knew the main road just outside Hammelburg would keep Hogan and several of the men out of the barracks for several hours. Now, all he had to do was make sure the remaining men were out of the barracks and he could then get to work. As time passed, he no longer cared how Hogan's death appeared to his men or anybody else. _With any luck, Colonel Hogan will be dead by tonight,_ he told himself with a smile.

He waited an hour after Hogan and six of his men left in a truck driven by Schultz with two additional guards in the back with the prisoners. He had suggested that Schultz get a wooden plank to use as a ramp for Hogan's wheelchair which two of the prisoners did. Then, LeBeau merely pushed the wheelchair up the ramp into the back of the truck. The plank was also tossed into the back of the truck. Watching the truck drive away, he noticed the remaining prisoners starting to leave the barracks, some involving themselves in tossing a football around, others just sitting and talking, and still others just sitting and reading their mail, a magazine or a book. He saw Kinch, unable to go on the work detail because of his hands, was sitting on a bench involved in a conversation with the camp medical officer. He was the only one of Hogan's team he was most concerned about. With his eyes on Kinch the entire time, he quickly sneaked inside the barracks and, finding it empty, hurried to his footlocker and grabbed the crossbow, one arrow and a roll of masking tape. He pocketed the small microphone, a wire, a portable listening device and a pair of pliers. Glancing around again, he then disappeared into Hogan's quarters.

Seated in his wheelchair, Hogan watched his men repairing the road. He sighed wearily. In stead of being out here on a work detail, he wanted to be out looking for Newkirk. It was times like this Hogan was the most frustrated at being paralyzed. If he had the use of his legs, he could easily have slipped away to meet with Lancelot while the men were working. _Get a grip Hogan,_ he told himself,_ If I don't get a grip I'm gonna lose what's left of my mind._ _Then how can I help find Newkirk?_ He sighed dejectedly. _I gotta stop feeling sorry for myself._ It was then he noticed two people riding bicycles coming towards them. The man Hogan recognized as Lancelot, the other a pretty young blonde girl code name Helena whom Hogan had worked with prior to his accident. Helena had a picnic basket hanging from one of the handles of her bicycle. They stopped at the sight of the men working on the road to watch. The men stopped their work and whistled at the pretty blonde girl who smiled shyly and seemed to blush. Schultz approached the two who he suspected were young sweethearts. "Guten tag, fraulein," Schultz said in his most friendly voice. He was about to advise the couple to leave when Helena looked at the rotund guard and gave Schultz her most charming smile. "Guten tag, Sergeant," she replied sweetly. Schultz found himself blushing. He was soon joined by the other guards who were also drawn to the pretty blonde woman.

With Helena distracting Schultz and the guards, Lancelot approached Hogan. "Colonel Hogan, how are you?"

"Not so good right now, Lance," his eyes periodically glancing at the guards. "One of my men has vanished without a trace. I need your men to check around and see if there has been any sightings of him anywhere." Hogan removed a small photo from inside his bomber jacket and handed it to the underground operative. "Here's his photo. I need to know what's happened to him. It appears he may have been targeted by our mystery man."

Lancelot studied the photo. "I will have my men check around and report anything they find. I will let you know as soon as I can, Colonel." He tucked the photo inside his sweater pocket. "And how are you, my friend? I imagine it has been rough for you since your accident."

Hogan sighed. "You have no idea how rough," Hogan explained. "Before I forget. Our radio was sabotaged by this person and we managed to get it working again, but barely. We could be off the air at any time until we can get new parts. So, if you find out anything and can't reach us by radio...."

"Don't worry. If necessary, we will find a way to contact you."

"Thanks." Hogan glanced at the guards again and noticed them still flirting with Helena. "You and Helena better get out of here before Schultz sees us talking." Hogan and Lancelot shook hands. "Thanks my friend," he said.

He stood back admiring his handiwork. The bug had been installed in the lamp on Hogan's desk. He figured this way whenever Hogan and his men were in the Colonel's quarters, he'd be able to hear their plans on his miniature listening device. The crossbow had been secured to the bedframe between the lower and upper bunk beds with masking tape at an angle enabling the arrow to be aimed directly at and would strike Hogan when he opened the door to his quarters. One end of a string was attached to the firing mechanism on the crossbow with the other end attached to the inside doorknob. He left enough slack on the string so he could get out of the room without triggering the crossbow himself. Then, he cracked open the door and peeked out. There were a few men in the barracks now, but not many. And Kinch was not visable. Slowly, he exited Hogan's quarters and closed the door. He noticed nobody paying him any attention. Smiling, he poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table with a magazine and began reading. Now he would watch and wait.

Newkirk fell back against the wall, exhausted. He had been trying for over an hour to free himself from his restraints without success. His wrists were sore and chafed from the handcuffs being too tight on his wrists. The blindfold and gag were annoying as well. But none of that mattered to Newkirk right now. All he could think about was Colonel Hogan being in danger and he had to warn him. Taking a deep breath, the Englander again started trying to free himself from his restraints.

An exhausted Colonel Hogan and his men entered their barracks as the afternoon turned into early evening. Kinch had now joined them. The radioman noticed how exhausted the Colonel looked. He knew his commanding officer needed rest before he made himself ill or worse. He sat down and faced Hogan.

"Colonel, permission to speak freely," he said softly.

"Of course," Hogan said, suspecting what Kinch was going to tell him. "Stop worrying about me, Kinch. I'm all right. I'm just tired."

LeBeau, Carter and Tucker all joined them at the table. They had noticed how exhausted Hogan was and were just as worried about him.

"No you're not. You're exhausted. You've been going almost non-stop since this situation began. And now that Newkirk's disappeared, you're pushing yourself even harder. Sir, if you don't get some sleep you're gonna make yourself sick or worse."

Hogan began rubbing his tired eyes. He knew Kinch was right. But he couldn't stop with one of his men missing and possibly dead as well as a traitor in their barracks. He just couldn't.

"Kinch is right, Colonel," LeBeau agreed. "You look like you're about to collaspe any minute. You must rest."

"I'll rest after we find Newkirk," Hogan replied in a taut voice. "Look, I appreciate your concern. But I'm all right."

Kinch sighed. "I hate to do this, Colonel," he said. "But you leave me no choice." With Hogan looking on, Kinch looked at Carter. "Andrew, find Wilson. Tell him Colonel Hogan needs to be sedated so he can rest."

Carter looked at Kinch in amazement, then at Hogan, then back at Kinch again.

Hogan shot his radioman an icy stare. "Sergeant, I don't need you making decisons about what I need or don't need. I can decide for myself!"

Kinch returned Hogan's stare but spoke to Carter. "You heard me, Andrew. Go get Wilson."

Carter slowly began to rise. As he did, Hogan gave him a look which caused him to sit back down.

Hogan's head was pounding at this point. He massaged his eyes again. The headache and exhaustion combined only fueled his anger. "You're bordering on insubordination, Sergeant," he said to Kinch, raising his voice. "Don't force me to say or do something both us might regret."

"Colonel, I'm not trying to step on your authority," Kinch exclaimed softly this time. "We're all worried about you. Let us look after things for awhile while you rest. You can't keep pushing yourself the way you are."

Hogan suddenly slammed his fist on the table, an action that surprised even him. "Don't any of you see? I can't rest until I find Newkirk." He felt like the weight of the entire world was on his shoulders right now and was crushing him. He buried his head in his hands. "I **can't** rest! Not now! I need to find Newkirk first."

LeBeau rested a hand on Hogan's shoulder. "We understand you want to find Newkirk, Colonel. We all do. But you won't be able to help him or anybody if something happens to you."

Hogan raised his head and leaned back in his wheelchair. He let out a deep breath. "There's no need to get Wilson. You're right. All of you are. I'll go into my quarters and lay down for awhile. I promise." He looked at Kinch. "I'm sorry for being short with you before, Kinch. I'm just so tired."

"Forget it, Colonel. I have." Kinch let a slight grin appear. "Besides, we've all been under a lot of pressure lately. Why should you be any different?"

Hogan let a faint smile appear. "Tucker, will you get me to my quarters and help me lay down?"

Tucker slowly got to his feet. "Sure, Colonel." He pushed Hogan's wheelchair in the direction of his quarters.

The man smiled as he watched Tucker wheel Hogan towards his quarters. It wouldn't be long now he told himself. Reaching the closed door, Hogan gripped the doorknob and started turning it.

"Colonel Hogan?''

Hogan paused and looked around. It was Baker stepping into the barracks from the tunnel. He had a paper in his hand. "Message from the underground, sir."

Releasing the doorknob, Hogan glanced over his shoulder at Tucker. "Chris, wait for me in my quarters. I'll see what this is about and then come in." Hogan turned his wheelchair around and moved away from the door as Baker approached him. Tucker gripped the doorknob to Hogan's quarters, turned it, and started opening the door. The man's smile faded immediately as he watched the scenario unfold before his eyes.

As Hogan began to read the message he took from Baker, there was a strange sound followed by a groan. Hogan turned and looked in the direction from where the sound had come. He stared in horror. What everyone in the barracks except one saw made their blood run cold.

Chris Tucker, his hands gripping the shaft of the arrow protruding from the center of his chest, slowly collasped to the floor.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

"**Chris!!!**" Hogan shouted, coming out of his shock. He quickly wheeled his chair to where the young man lay, bleeding, but concious. Hogan was shortly surrounded by all the men in the barracks, including the one responsible. He looked at Kinch. "Kinch, get Wilson here and quick!"

"Right!" The radioman hurried from the barracks. Hogan, leaning forward, reached down and touched the young man's shoulder. The front of Tucker's shirt was stained red.

"Chris, listen to me. You're gonna be all right. Just hang on."

Tucker turned his head towards Hogan. His breathing was becoming labored. He smiled up at the Colonel affectionately. "It's okay, Colonel...." he said softly. "Really. It doesn't hurt much."

Hogan blinked to keep the tears from falling. He felt the young man was slipping away. Where was Wilson?

With all the strength he could muster, Tucker reached up and gripped Hogan's hand. The Colonel held his hand tightly as if trying to give some of his own strength to the young man.

"Colonel....." Tucker said, wincing. Is this what it felt like to die, he thought to himself.

"Shhhhh. Don't talk. Save your strength," Hogan advised him.

"....Colonel....must say this....I've enjoyed being under.... your command. Be well....don't let....anyone....tell you....you can't do something. Don't let....anything....stop you. Promise me." Tucker swallowed an imaginary lump in his throat as his eyes looked into Hogan's. He winced again. "Promise me...."

Hogan closed his eyes momentarily. Opening them again, he saw the young Sergeant looking up at him.

"I promise, Chris. I give you my word as an officer and a friend."

Tucker smiled at Hogan. Then his body went limp. His hand slipped from Hogan's as his arm dropped to the floor. Someone knelt down and closed Tucker's eyes which, though now unseeing, were still focused on the Colonel.

Hogan knew the young Sergeant was dead. Leaning back in his wheelchair, the Colonel closed his eyes as the tears began rolling down his cheeks. There were tears from others in the barracks, but no sounds except that of the barracks door opening and Kinch returning with Wilson.

"Colonel, I found Wilson," he said. Then, he noticed the reactions of the others. "What's wrong?" he asked suspecting he already knew the answer.

"Tucker's dead, Kinch," Hogan said, voice barely audible. Opening his eyes, he let out a deep breath before covering his face with his hands. "Oh God!" he muttered suddenly. "It should never have happened! I didn't protect him! I let Chris down and now he's dead!" Hogan, looking around, locked eyes with Wilson. "Who was I kidding, Joe, thinking I could still handle things?" He backed his wheelchair away slowly. "Handle what? I couldn't even keep Newkirk safe. For all I know he could be lying dead somewhere. And now Tucker. And it's all my fault because I was trying to lead when I should've just stepped aside the minute I found out I was paralyzed." He buried his face in his hands again.

Carter, his own face wet, slowly approached Hogan. He knelt down in front of his commanding officer and pulled Hogan's hands away from his face and held onto them. He looked deep into Hogan's eyes, and saw the pain reflected in them. "Colonel, none of this is your fault," he began softly. "I know you feel you're to blame for what happened to Newkirk and now to Chris, but you're not." He licked his dry lips and continued. "It's the fault of whoever's after Burkhalter. He's the one who's responsible for this. Not you. So, if you want to blame anybody, sir, blame him and not yourself."

Hogan let out a deep breath. "But, Carter...."

"No, Colonel. No buts. You promised Chris as an officer and a friend, in front of witnesses, that you would not let anything stop you and not let anybody tell you you couldn't do something. We all heard you. And the Colonel Hogan I know doesn't make empty promises."

Hogan hung his head and shook it sadly. He suddenly felt he was going to be ill. "That was the old Colonel Hogan, Carter," he replied softly. "And he doesn't exist anymore."

"No, sir, Colonel. That is the Colonel Hogan I'm talking to right now. You are still that same man. And if you give up, sir, then the person responsible wins. Don't let him beat you, boy, I mean sir. Don't let him take away from you what makes you the man you are. Please."

Hogan looked into Carter's boyish face. A grim smile appeared. "Carter, how did you become so wise for your age?"

Carter shrugged his shoulders. "Gee, I don't know, Colonel. Must be from hanging around you all this time. Some of you must've rubbed off on me, don't you think?"

Hogan took another deep breath in order to compose himself. "Joe, I'll need you to confirm time and cause of death for Klink's records." Hogan pinched the bridge of his nose as a thought occured to him. "Klink. There's no way this can be covered up with Klink or Burkhalter. If we say Tucker escaped, then Klink's perfect record goes out the window and maybe our operation with him. Benson, find Schultz and get him here. But don't tell him anything except there's been an accident in the barracks. Chris's death has to be reported to Klink. And there is going to be an investigation and questions asked, so we all better make sure we have the right answers."

"Right away, Colonel," Benson replied.

" LeBeau...."

"Oui, Colonel?" the Frenchman responded, his cheeks still wet.

"Find Dennison and get him here. We'll need him to impersonate Newkirk again. Klink and Burkhalter will both probably want to question everybody and we can't have a prisoner missing. However, because Dennison isn't British, we'll just have to say Newkirk has laryngitis and can't talk. Wilson will confirm should take care of that problem."

Right away, Colonel," LeBeau replied, wiping his cheeks and hurrying out of the barracks door with Benson right behind him.

Kinch, meanwhile, had approached Hogan's quarters. Seeing the door open, he glanced inside. "Colonel, you better see this," he remarked, stunned.

"What is it, Kinch?" Hogan asked. He couldn't take anymore problems right now. "What's the prob...." he paused when he saw the crossbow. "What the hell!" he stated, shock appearing. Some of the other prisoners joined them and looked. They too, were stunned at what they saw.

"Looks like our friend again," Kinch said, seriously. "And I think this was meant for you, Colonel." The radioman looked at Hogan with concern. "That could have been you lying there dead instead of Chris. Want me to take it down?"

"Don't touch it, Kinch," Hogan advised. "Our friend is playing for keeps. Chris paid the price because he went into my quarters instead of me."

"Colonel," Carter wiped his wet cheeks with the back of his hand. "I think it might be a good idea to search this barracks and your quarters again to make sure there are no other surprises awaiting you or one of us."

Hogan leaned his head back and sighed wearily. "We'll do that after, Carter," he said softly. He looked at the body on the floor as one of the other men, using a blanket, covered Tucker's body. Hogan pinched the bridge of his nose again with eyes closed. His headache was a beauty. He appeared lost in thought when Benson returned with Schultz.

The rotund guard was out of breath from hurrying to Hogan's barracks. All he knew was what Benson had told him, and that was someone had an accident in the barracks. He looked at Hogan. "Colonel Hogan. Was ist los? Are you all right? All Benson would tell me...." Schultz paused when he saw the blanket covered body on the floor. He stared, mouth gaping open. "Colonel Hogan, what happened here?"

"There's been an accident, Schultz," Hogan explained in a barely audible voice. "It's Chris....Sergeant Christopher Tucker, USAF. He's dead." Hogan massaged his forehead again as the pounding in his head intensified.

"Dead? But....but....but how? What happened? Are you sure he's dead?" Schultz couldn't take his eyes off the covered corpse.

"Believe me, Schultz," said Hogan, "I'm sure." Hogan sighed wearily. "We had you come here so you could report it to Klink."

Schultz slowly approached the body on the floor and, bending over picked up a corner of the blanket. He momentarily glimpsed the face of the young man underneath it. Hogan stuffed his fist into his mouth to keep from screaming. He could only watch Schultz drop the blanket and stand up. Schultz then slowly turned and looked at Hogan who was staring at the body on the floor. "Colonel Hogan, how did this terrible thing happen? Do you know?"

Hogan closed his eyes and squeezed them tightly shut hoping to block out the scene in front of him. He didn't respond to the Sergeant's question. Carter, who had been watching his commanding officer the entire time, slowly approached and stood beside Hogan, putting a hand on Hogan's shoulder. Hogan, opening his eyes, looked up at the young Sergeant as Carter squeezed Hogan's shoulder. "We don't know, Schultz," Carter replied. "We really don't."

"We may not know **how** it happened, Schultz," Hogan finally said. "But we do know **what** happened."

"You do?"

"We do...." Hogan replied. "....at least we think we do."

And what is that?"

Hogan hesitated. It was hard to think right now. His thoughts were all over the place. He felt the slight pressure again on his shoulder. He again looked at Carter, who gave him a knowing look.

"We think somebody tried to kill Colonel Hogan and killed Sergeant Tucker instead," Carter explained."

Schultz appeared stunned. "Somebody tried to kill Colonel Hogan? I don't believe it!"

Carter appeared perplexed. "Why don't you believe it, Schultz?"

"I didn't mean I didn't believe you, Carter. I meant I couldn't believe somebody would try and kill Colonel Hogan."

"Oh," Carter slowly nodded, understanding. "You might not believe it, Schultz, but it's the truth."

Schultz glanced over his shoulder again at the body on the floor. He sadly shook his head before again looking at Hogan who appreared to still be in shock. "I will have to report this to the Kommandant and to General Burkhalter. There will be an investigation!"

"We know, Schultz," Hogan replied with his head hanging. "Go do your duty. We didn't touch anything. We'll be right here."

Hogan was oblivious to Schultz leaving the barracks. He looked up at Carter, a faint smile on his face. "Thank you, Carter," he said softly. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I couldn't seem to get the words out."

Carter smiled grimly. "I understand, sir." Carter suddenly appeared concerned. "Colonel, I hope I didn't say anything wrong."

"Carter, you did just fine."

Smiling a little more, Carter nodded slowly, but kept his hand on Hogan's shoulder. He was joined by Kinch and Benson. Kinch smiled at Carter.

"Andrew, you were terrific," He remarked admiringly.

"Nah," Carter replied. He turned red with embarrassemnt. "I wasn't so terrific."

"Don't put yourself down, Carter," said Benson. "Kinch is right. You were great."

Carter shrugged. "If you say so," he told Benson shyly.

Just then the barracks door opened. LeBeau entered with Dennison. The Corporal saluted Hogan.

"Corporal Dennison reporting, sir." He licked his dry lips. "I'm sorry about Sergeant Tucker, Colonel."

Hogan looked over his shoulder at the USAAF Corporal. "Thank you, Corporal." Hogan turned his wheelchair around enabling him to face Dennison. Hogan quickly wiped his face with both hands before looking into Dennison's eyes. But the young Corporal could tell by looking into the Colonel's eyes that he had been crying.

"Kinch, watch the door," Hogan ordered. "Corporal, we need you to impersonate Corporal Newkirk again," Hogan explained. "Sergeant Tucker's death is right now being reported to the Kommandant who will probably be here within the hour with General Burkhalter. Now, more than likely there will be an investigation into the matter and questions asked. And with General Burkhalter here, I'm almost positive he will be involved in the questioning and we cannot afford to have a missing prisoner. Not only would it point the finger at Newkirk as the guilty party, but it could result in the exposure of our entire operation. Now I won't order you to do this, but it's important. Will you do it?"

"Yes, sir," Dennison replied without hesitation. "But I do have a question."

"Yes, Corporal?"

"You said there will be questions asked. If I'm questioned, do I still pretend to have laryngitis?"

"You do. As I told you earlier this morning, Wilson will confirm that. So don't worry about having to answer any questions."

"Yes, sir." Dennsion turned as LeBeau approached with Newkirk's spare uniform. He started towards Hogan's quarters.

"I wouldn't go in there, Corporal," Hogan advised him seriously. "There's something in there that caused Sergeant Tucker's death and it can't be disturbed. You'd better change in the corner between the bunks. But be quick. Klink and Burkhalter could be here any minute."

Schultz entered Klink's office out of breath and worried. He couldn't imagine who would want to harm Colonel Hogan. He liked the American Colonel very much, and everybody who met him, liked him. He knew there would be trouble now once word of Tucker's death was reported. He suspected that the Gestapo might even become involved. Schultz found Burkhalter in the Kommandant's office enjoying a glass of Schnapps, and Klink looking like he'd just been given his orders to the Russian front. He saluted both men. "Herr Kommandant, General Burkhalter....I beg to report.....that is, I have something terrible to report."

Klink returned the salute, grateful for the interruption, yet dreading it at the same time. "What is it, Schultz?" he asked hesitantly.

"Herr Kommandant....I don't know how to tell you this.....I mean...."

Burkhalter smiled deviously. "Out with it, Schultz," he said. "What's wrong?"

"One of the prisoners is dead," he reported.

Both Klink and Burkhalter looked at each other and then both of them looked at Schultz. "What did you say, Sergeant?" asked Burkhalter, stunned.

"I said one of the prisoners is dead," Schultz repeated.

"One of the prisoners?" asked Klink. A cold fear was slowly creeping into his being. "Which prisoner, Schultz? Was it Hogan?"

"No, Herr Kommandant. It is Sergeant Tucker."

Burkhalter and Klink exchanged looks. "What made you think it was Hogan, Klink?" His eyes narrowed.

Klink shrugged innocently. He threw his hands in the air. "No reason, General Burkhalter. I just thought that since Hogan's injury...."

"And you thought that he would kill himself? Klink, you dummkopf! From what I've seen of Colonel Hogan since I've been here he's struck me as almost the same man he was since his arrival here. A little withdrawn perhaps, since his accident. But that's to be expected with a man who's suffered the kind of injury he has." He got up as did Klink. "We'd better check this out, Klink. If what Schultz says is true...." Burkhalter grinned a devilish grin. "....you may have had you first escape from Stalag 13. In a manner of speaking, that is."


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21 **

Hogan wheeled his chair around at the sound of the barracks door opening just in time to see General Burkhalter, followed by Klink, Schultz, and two more guards enter. He sighed as he moved forward. The other prisoners were either seated or standing around nearby. Carter was still standing beside Hogan, his hand still gripping the Colonel's shoulder as if he believed this single act was giving his commanding officer some of his own strength. "General, Kommandant," was all Hogan said softly. "I see Schultz told you what happened."

Burkhalter glanced at the covered body on the floor. He then turned his attention to the man in the wheelchair. "Suppose you tell me what happened here, Hogan?" he clasped his hands behind his back, waiting.

"We're not really sure exactly, General," Hogan chose his words carefully. He knew he had to control the situation. "But, if you gentlemen will follow me." Hogan then led them in the direction of his quarters, it's door still open. "I suggest you have a look in there."

Burkhalter, Klink and Schultz all looked inside Hogan's quarters and gasped when they saw the crossbow attached with masking tape to the bedframe of Hogan's double bunk bed. Burkhalter, having regained his composure, turned and approached the body on the floor. Lifting the sheet, he glanced momentarily at the arrow shaft protruding from the body before letting the sheet drop. Klink faced Hogan, shaking his fist in the Senior POW's face. "Hogaaaaannn!" he muttered nervously. "What is the meaning of this?! Where did that crossbow come from?!"

Burkhalter sighed. "Klink, shut up." He again looked at Hogan. "Colonel Hogan, suppose you tell us how this unfortunate incident happened?"

Hogan glanced up at Carter and for a brief moment their eyes met. Sighing, Hogan let out a deep breath as he looked at the General. "As I said, General, we're not exactly sure. I mean, I and six of my men were on a work detail earlier today so this..." he pointed in the direction of the crossbow,"...must have been set up while we were out. After all, General, where would any of us get a crossbow? I mean, it's not like we have access to any weapons in here."

"That's very true, Hogan," Burkhalter's gaze never wavered from Hogan's face as he tried to see even the slightest hint that the man was lying. He found none. "However, that doesn't dismiss the fact that there is a crossbow in your quarters, and an arrow in the body of the man lying here. Somebody put it there. Suppose you tell me who? Was it you, perhaps?"

"I wasn't here, General," Hogan stayed calm. He really wasn't in the mood for this right now, but, since he knew it was coming he'd have to put up with it. "If you don't believe me, ask Schultz. He's the one that came and got me and the others for the work detail."

Burkhalter glanced at the rotund guard who swallowed nervously. "Jawohl, Herr General," he stuttered. "Colonel Hogan was present with the work detail all afternoon." Burkhalter turned back to Hogan.

"I see. Tell me, Hogan. What do you think happened?"

"Well, some of my men here think somebody was trying to kill me and that this crossbow was meant for me instead of Sergeant Tucker."

"And why would somebody want to kill you, Hogan?" Burkhalter smirked. "Besides Klink," he added.

Klink shuddered as he looked at Burkhalter. A nervous smile appeared and quickly disappeared.

"We think it might be an assassin," chimed in Carter, looking at the General. "Y'know, sir, some unknown person who wanted to hurt Colonel Hogan for some unknown reason."

"Burkhalter froze momentarily at the word 'assassin.' He paled. He faced Carter. "And what makes you say that, Sergeant Carter?"

"Well, sir, it's like this...."

"Carter...." Hogan said warningly.

Burkhalter's eyes shifted from Carter, to Hogan, and back to Carter. "Never mind Hogan, Sergeant. What were you going to say?"

"Well, it all started when Colonel Hogan received this letter threatening his life...."

Hogan looked over his shoulder at Carter. "That's enough, Sergeant," he said.

"Yes, sir," Carter replied sheepishly. "Sorry, sir."

Burkhalter licked his suddenly dry lips.

"A letter you say? Let me see it, Hogan," Burkhalter ordered.

"I can't, General," Hogan hung his head. "I burned it after I read it."

"I see," was all Burkhalter said.

"I suppose you'll now get the Gestapo involved," Hogan said quietly, looking up. " And of course they'll want to investigate." He looked at Klink. "Don't worry, Kommandant, I just want you to know we'll cooperate in every way with the men in black, sir. And we'll do our best to protect both you and the General."

Klink was puzzled. "Protect us? Protect us from what?"

"Well sir," Hogan looked at Klink innocently. "They'll wonder where the crossbow came from and how it ended up in the barracks of prisoners-of -war while both of you were here in camp. They might even start an investigation of both of you."

Klink and Burkhalter both swallowed nervously and looked at each other. "I don't see any need to include the Gestapo in this, do you, Klink?" he said nervously.

"Not at all, General Burkhalter."

Burkhalter glanced again at the body on the floor and then at Klink. "An unfortunate incident, the death of this young man. Klink, you will see to the removal of his body from this barracks and of that weapon in Colonel Hogan's quarters at once."

"Right away, General Burkhalter. Schultz! Carry out the General's orders at once!"

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant!"

"Schultz, before you remove Chris...Sergeant Tucker, I'd like his dogtags," Hogan said quietly.

"What for?" asked Klink.

"As his commanding officer, Kommandant, I'm the one who'll have to write to his parents. I'd like for them to have them. If it's all right."

"See to it, Schultz!" Klink replied, his accusing eyes on Hogan.

"Jawohl, Herr Kommandant!"

"Thank you, sir."

"Schultz! After you're done with that I want this barracks turned inside out to see if there are any weapons hidden in here!" Burkhalter's eyes never left Hogan's face.

"Jawohl, Herr General! It will be done!"

Satisfied, Burkhalter motioned for Klink to follow him. "Come, Klink, let us leave the Sergeant and his men to their duties while you and I retire to your office and discuss this further."

"Yes, General Burkhalter," Klink said. As Burkhalter opened the barracks door, he suddenly stopped and turned. "Oh, Hogan...."

Hogan turned his wheelchair around, allowing him to face the General. "Yes, General?" he said sadly.

"I am sorry about your young Sergeant Tucker, Hogan. I am, after all, not a heartless man."

"Yes, General. Thank you," Hogan replied, not quite sure what Burkhalter was trying to say.

"I suggest you be careful, Colonel. I'd hate to see anything happen to you."

"I'll certainly try, General," Hogan smirked. "But you never know what to expect when you're dealing with an assassin. Y'know what I mean?"

With a slight frown on his face, Burkhalter closed the door leaving the men, Schultz, and the two guards alone. Schultz quietly approached Hogan and dropped the dogtags in his hand. Hogan gripped them tightly. "I'm sorry, Colonel Hogan," he remarked quietly.

"Thanks, Schultz," was all Hogan managed to say.

"You," Schultz orderd one of the guards, "Go remove that crossbow from the other room and be quick about it. And you, go get the stretcher and hurry back. I'll wait here. Schnell!"

The other guard hurried out of the barracks. Schultz sighed. He approached Hogan. "Is there anything I can do, Colonel Hogan? Do you or your men need anything?"

Looking into Schultz's face, Hogan could see genuine concern from Schultz. "No thank you, Schultz. We'll be okay. Thanks for asking, though."

"We might be enemies, but I also consider you and your men my friends. This is a terrible thing that happened to Sergeant Tucker. He was such a nice boy."

"Yes, he was, Schultz," Hogan said softly, running his fingers over the dogtags in his hand. "One of the best."

Schultz was about to say something when the guard he sent into Hogan's quarters emerged carrying the crossbow. Schultz winced when he saw it. Hogan turned his head away so he wouldn't have to look at it. Schultz, seeing Hogan's reaction, looked at the guard and ordered him to take it to Klink right away. He passed the other guard who entered with the stretcher.

Then, Schultz and the guard both carefully transferred the body from the floor to the stretcher. Lifting the stretcher, they made their way towards the open barracks door. As they passed....

"Wait a minute, Schultz," Hogan replied." Schultz stopped.

Hogan wheeled himself forward. Swallowing hard, he gripped Tucker's shoulder. "I promise you we'll find out who did this, Chris. And I'll keep my other promise to you as well. And you know I don't make empty promises." Hogan glanced over his shoulder at Carter who smiled faintly at him. Hogan returned the faint smile. He looked at Schultz. "Okay, Schultz."

Schultz nodded, and with the guard, proceeded out of the door. LeBeau closed it behind them. Then he, Carter and Kinch gathered around Hogan. The Colonel wheeled himself over to the table with his men following. They sat down. Hogan pinched the bridge of his nose with eyes closed. Then, shaking his head, looked up and sighed. He noticed LeBeau holding up a cup of coffee. He took it gratefully.

"Thanks, LeBeau," he said.

"You're welcome, Colonel," the Frenchman replied, a sad smile on his face.

"You okay, Colonel?" asked Kinch, concerned.

Hogan sipped his coffee. "I'm as okay as could be expected, Kinch," he replied. "But I never would have gotten though it without help from our resident shrink here, Andrew Carter." Hogan held up his coffee cup in salute. "Thank you, Carter. Really. You gave me the strength to get through it."

LeBeau patted the young Sergeant's hand. He smiled. "The Colonel's right. You were great, Carter!"

"I was impressed, Andrew," said Kinch with a smile. "I was really impressed."

Carter smiled sheepishly at the praise. He shrugged. "Aw shucks. I didn't do anything so great. I mean, everybody once in awhile needs somebody to lean on. I suppose even Colonels. I just kinda figured Colonel Hogan should know he could lean on me in a difficult moment. What's so great about that? Any of you guys would have done the same thing."

"That's true," Hogan replied, "But it was you who was there for me, Carter. You sensed what I needed and you were there. Even with your concern about Newkirk, you were still there for me when another person might have been so wrapped up in their own concerns they'd have no time for anybody else. I won't forget it. You're a good friend, Andrew. All you men are good friends. I couldn't ask for better ones."

"C'mon, Colonel," Carter was beginning to blush. "Now you're embarrassing me."

Hogan found himself smirking as Kinch pulled Carter's cap down over his eyes playfully.

Corporal Dennison slowly approached the group. "Colonel Hogan, sir?"

Hogan glanced over his shoulder. He had forgotten about the young Corporal. "I'm sorry, Corporal. I forgot you were here. Thanks for your help. I don't think we'll be needing you anymore today. But you may have to stand in for Newkirk again tomorrow at roll call. Do you mind?"

"No, sir."

"Hey Corporal," LeBeau called out as Dennison started towards the back of the barracks to change clothes. He turned. "What is it, LeBeau?"

"I'm curious. Aren't you missed in barracks eleven if you're over here?"

Dennison smiled. "Our roll call ends about fifteen minutes before yours begins. So we're just finishing when you guys are ordered outside for roll call." Suddenly Dennison looked puzzled about something. He looked at LeBeau. "Talking about roll call reminds me of something I wanted to ask you."

"What's that, Corporal?" asked Hogan sipping his coffee.

"Well, your roll call was pushed back an hour later than it used to be. How come?"

Hogan sighed and studied the coffee in his cup. He didn't respond. Instead, LeBeau answered the Corporal's question.

"Klink did that to accomodate Colonel Hogan since the accident. It takes the Colonel at bit longer since that day. So until he's well, Klink figured this was his way of trying to help."

Dennison nodded understandingly. "I didn't mean to pry, Colonel," he said quietly.

"You didn't, Corporal. It's the truth. But should the day come when I get out of this chair, roll call will be back to it's regular early morning hour. Besides, this later hour benefits Klink as much as it does us."

Carter appeared puzzled. "How do you figure that, Colonel?" he asked.

Hogan took another sip of coffee. "Klink gets to sleep later," he winked at Carter.

The others snickered at what their CO said.

Just then, the barracks door opened again and Schultz entered with the same two guards. He looked around apologetically. "I'm sorry to barge in on you boys right now...."

Hogan looked over his shoulder. "Here to take inventory, Schultz?" he asked, completely disinterested.

"Colonel Hogan, you heard General Burkhalter order me to have the barracks searched for any weapons that might be here after....after....that is...."

"Fine. Just hurry up and get it over with. We've got things to do, Schultz."

The rotund guard's eyes shifted from Hogan to his men and back to Hogan. "Things to do? What things?" He groaned. "No. Don't tell me. I don't want to know. Forget I asked." He looked at the guards. "You men, get to work!"

Hogan and his men watched as the two guards then proceeded to search every corner of barracks two. Sipping his coffee, all Hogan could do was watch Schultz's men and remember the young blonde Sergeant he thought of as a brother.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

He had watched nervously while the guards had searched the entire barracks looking for weapons.

They even searched through the prisoners footlockers. He knew he still had the one arrow in his. But it was safely hidden inside a secret compartment he had installed. He breathed a silent breath of relief after he saw the guards hadn't found it. He was angry. Hogan had escaped....again. And he knew Colonel Wasserman wasn't going to wait indefinitely for results. And he couldn't spend all his time trying to kill Hogan. Afterall, there was still Burkhalter to deal with. Maybe, he thought, he could get rid of both of them at the same time.

It was an hour after Schultz and the guards had left after finding nothing that Hogan and his men were at the table, drinking coffee.

"Colonel, before Chris was killed, Baker had said there was a message from the underground," Kinch reminded Hogan.

"Yeah, there was," Hogan replied, reaching inside his bomber jacket. He pulled out the paper and unfolded it. "According to the underground, Colonel Rudolph Wasserman is arriving here today on a tour of all the Stalags in the area." He crumpled the paper. "Wasserman. Isn't that the Kraut we're suppose to frame as the assassin who's trying to kill Burkhalter?"

"Oui, mon Colonel," said LeBeau. "That's the Kraut."

"Isn't this getting interesting," remarked Hogan. "Now why would an SS Kraut **really** be coming here to little old Stalag 13?"

"Colonel, when we were setting up our phony mission, Lancelot told us that Wasserman hates Burkhalter with a passion. Seems years ago when Wasserman was with the Luftwaffe, Burkhalter passed him over for a promotion that Wasserman felt he deserved," explained Kinch. He saw Hogan raise an eyebrow.

"Not only that," added Carter, "But Lancelot also said that Wasserman's never forgiven Burkhalter for it."

Hogan rubbed his jaw. "Won't that be cozy. Two people who don't like each other in the same place. Now why would he be coming here at the same time Burkhalter's here. Does he know Burkhalter's here? And if he does know, why come to a place where you're gonna run into someone you can't stand? It doesn't make sense to me."

"Colonel, you know that crossbow came from our cache of weapons in the tunnel," Carter said softly.

Hogan's eyes shifted momentarily to the young Sergeant. "Yeah, I know. I recognized it as soon as I saw it."

"Then who knows what other weapons this guy might have taken besides the crossbow," Carter added.

"We don't, Carter," LeBeau chimed in. "That's the trouble."

Hogan sighed. "From here on, we keep a record of **all** of our weapons. How many we have, what types, how much ammo, etc. Got it?"

"Oui, mon Colonel."

Hogan suddenly moved his wheelchair away from the table. "I think we should continue this coversation in my quarters," he said softly.

The men got up to follow. Carter pushed Hogan's wheelchair the remainder of the way and into Hogan's quarters. LeBeau closed the door. Putting his finger to his lips, Hogan motioned for the men to silently search his quarters while he himself searched his desk. After several minutes and finding nothing, the men gathered around Hogan as he looked at the desk lamp. Picking it up to examine it, he found the tiny microphone. Removing it, Hogan covered the microphone with his thumb and held it tightly in his hand. He pursed his lips. "My guess is somebody planted this bug after the barracks and my quarters had originally been searched. Very clever. Who would think to look for a listening device in a place you've already searched."

"What are we gonna do, Colonel?" asked LeBeau. "How do we draw this person out into the open?"

"I'm not sure," Hogan replied. "It's too bad we weren't able to listen in on the conversation in Klink's office between him and Burkhalter after.....but with Schultz and those guards here searching we couldn't take the chance. However, it's a safe bet Burkhalter must be sweating like hell at the thought of an assassin, possibly the same one who's after him, being in this camp, thanks to Carter's dropped hint."

"But what about you, Colonel?" asked Kinch. "I mean, this guy's tried twice to kill you. You realize he might try again."

"Umm-hmm. I'm counting on it. I know if I was an assassin and I had just missed my victim twice, I'd be pretty ticked off by now, Kinch." Suddenly, Hogan's face broke out in a smile. "I have an idea how we might be able to find Newkirk."

"You have a plan, mon Colonel?" asked LeBeau with a grin.

"In a manner of speaking. Now, we know Newkirk must have disappeared sometime during the night only because we know he was here when we turned in. So, let's assume he must've seen something or someone leave this barracks and decided to follow."

"Yeah, but Colonel, Newkirk would have put up a fight," said Carter, confused.

"He would have, you're right, Carter. But suppose our friend knew Newkirk was following him, and took him by surprise. Now, going on that premise, our friend has two alternatives. One, he could kill Newkirk. Or two, take him hostage and hide him someplace."

"Do you think he killed Newkirk, Colonel?" asked Kinch softly.

"No. And I'll tell you why. If he had killed Newkirk, I believe our friend wouldn't care if we found the body. He'd probably make sure we did. But because we haven't, I believe he's got Newkirk hidden somewhere in this camp."

"I'm confused, Colonel," said Kinch. "I mean, how do you know Newkirk is still in this camp? Why couldn't he have taken him outside the camp?"

"Think about it, Kinch. Not only is our friend a prisoner in this camp and our barracks, but carrying a person, unconcious or not, is dead weight. A body is too heavy for one person to carry very far. He would have to either bury him if he's dead, close by, or hide him somewhere close by. My guess is, since we've found no evidence of a grave, he's hidden Newkirk somewhere."

"What's your plan, mon Colonel?" asked LeBeau eagerly.

"LeBeau, you are going to hide in the tunnel and keep watch. Carter, I want you to stand watch at the door of my quarters and tell me if you see anybody leave the barracks either by the tunnel, or out the door. We're gonna trick our friend into revealing where he's hidden Newkirk. Now, under no circumstances, LeBeau, are you to try and stop him. Just watch where he goes and report back to me. I don't want you to approach this guy at all. He's already proven he won't hesitate to kill if necessary. So I don't want you to play hero. Understood?"

"Oui, Colonel. Understood."

"Yes, sir, Colonel." Carter was still puzzled over one thing. "Colonel, just how are you gonna get him to lead us to Newkirk?"

"Easy, Carter." Hogan held up the hand in which he was clutching the hidden mic. "We're gonna use his hidden mic to our advantage. We're gonna make him believe we know where Newkirk is and that we're gonna get him out. So, just play along with whatever I say or do. Carter, go stand watch."

"Right, Colonel."

"LeBeau, get going. And stay out of sight. Just keep a sharp lookout."

"Oui, Colonel." LeBeau started towards the door. Hogan suddenly called out to him. LeBeau turned.

"If anybody, and I mean **anybody** asks what you're doing or why you're going into the tunnels, tell 'em we found Newkirk and we're gonna spring 'im. And make **sure** the tunnel entrance stays open behind you. Got it?"

"Oui." LeBeau hastily left the room.

Hogan put the tiny mic back where he had found it, smiling as he did. He then looked at Kinch. "Are you sure, Kinch? Are you sure you found Newkirk?"

"Positive, Colonel. But it wasn't me who located him. It was Baker. He said he found him by accident. We have to get him out."

"Is he alive?"

"Baker said he was. But he's doesn't seem to be well. Colonel, shouldn't we tell Schultz or Klink?"

"Why should we tell Klink? He won't believe us. We'll have to get him out ourselves. I only hope he can tell us who took him hostage." Hogan drew his hand across his throat indicating for Kinch to be quiet. Hogan then removed the mic again and covered it. He looked at Carter. "Carter? Anything?"

"Nothing yet, Colonel. Wait a minute.... I see someone getting off his bunk and heading towards the tunnel entrance." Carter turned and looked into Hogan's eyes. "Colonel, it's Benson."

Hearing the conversation in Hogan's quarters, he became extremely nervous. How could they have found the Englishman? He gritted his teeth. He should have killed him when he had the chance. However, he still had time to get rid of Newkirk before he talked. Tucking the tiny listening device inside his jacket, Benson fingered the pistol in his inside pocket and climbed down off his bunk. He had seen the Frenchman go into the tunnel after leaving Hogan's quarters. He paused for a moment. Could it be a trap set by the American Colonel? Possibly. Could he afford to take the chance? Definitely not. There was too much at stake. He climbed down the ladder into the tunnel.

Hogan was stunned. "Benson? Are you sure, Carter?"

"Yes, sir, Colonel."

"Benson was Tucker's closest friend. Carter, follow him, but stay a safe distance. LeBeau might need help."

"Gotcha, Colonel," Carter hurried from Hogan's quarters and waited a minute or two before following Benson down the tunnel. Alone, Hogan looked at Kinch. "I hope this works, Kinch," he said solemnly. "Because if it doesn't, we're **all** gonna be in trouble or worse."


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Benson quickly made his way through the tunnels, pistol in hand. He hadn't run into the Frenchman during his travels, but he suspected he was somewhere, possibly even following him. Didn't matter, he figured. He'd kill the Frenchman as well, plus anybody else who got in his way.

LeBeau had seen the gun. Anger crossed his face when he recognized Benson. He had been Tucker's best friend. _Miserable Bosche traitor!_ LeBeau thought. Looking around, LeBeau found a heavy stick he might be able to use as a weapon. With that gun, LeBeau suspected what Benson was going to do with it once he reached Newkirk.

Newkirk sighed wearily after what seemed like endless hours of trying to free himself without success. He fell back against the wall, exhausted. He was worried about the Colonel, LeBeau, Kinch and Carter with someone like Benson walking around. Especially the Colonel. Suddenly, Newkirk perked up when he heard a sliding noise and realized he was no longer alone. Someone ripped the tape off his mouth and pulled down the blindfold. Newkirk found himself staring into Benson's eyes. Eyes filled with evil.

"Benson, you bloody bastard! How could you betray your country like that?!" Then, Newkirk saw the pistol.

"Y'know, Newkirk, that's the same thing Colonel Hogan asked before I put a bullet in the back of his head," he replied smugly.

Newkirk's eyes narrowed. His breath caught in his throat. He swallowed an imaginary lump. "No. Not the Gov'nor. You couldn't have....you didn't...."

"Kill him? It was fairly easy really since he can't exactly run away as he's in a wheelchair, now can he?" Benson waved the weapon before Newkirk's eyes menacingly. "He never suspected me until the very end. Want me to tell you how I did it? We were in his quarters going over plans to try to find you and he asked me to do something for him. I already had the gun in my pocket. So, when his back was turned, I pulled out the gun and shot 'im in the back of the head. And poof! No more Colonel Hogan."

Newkirk hung his head and sadly shook it. "No," he kept repeating softly, fighting back tears. "Not the Gov'nor. Not Colonel Hogan." He looked up, eyes filled with rage. He strained against his restraints. "I'll snap your misereable Kraut neck for this! I'll see you pay for killing Colonel Hogan! You miserable, bloody excuse for a human being!" Suddenly, Newkirk noticed LeBeau quietly crawling through the open trapdoor entrance. He also noticed the club in his hand. LeBeau put a finger to his lips indicating quiet.

Benson cocked his pistol and aimed it at Newkirk's head. "You won't have a chance to miss your Colonel Hogan, because you'll be joining him in a minute." His finger tightened on the trigger.

"I don't think so, filthy Bosche!" LeBeau cried as he swung the club as hard as he could, bringing it down on Benson's head. The gun fell to the ground as Benson crumpled and lay motionless. LeBeau, dropping the club, began rummaging through Benson's pockets.

Newkirk exhaled. "You don't know how bloody glad I am to see you, mate!" he exclaimed, relieved. "How did you find me?"

"It was Colonel Hogan's plan to trick Benson into leading us to where you were."

"Colonel Hogan? But Benson said...."

"I heard what the filthy Bosche said. He lied. The Colonel's alive and worried sick about you. A lot has happened since you disappeared, mon ami. Got 'em!" LeBeau triumphantly held up the keys to the handcuffs.

"Well, hurry up, then,will you?" asked an impatient Newkirk. "Get these bloody charm bracelets off me wrists."

LeBeau went to Newkirk and began unlocking the handcuffs when they both heard a noise. Looking up, they saw Benson exiting the trapdoor and closing it behind him. Having freed Newkirk, LeBeau pushed at the trapdoor with everything he had. "It's blocked!" He cried. "Benson's got it blocked with something!"

"Here, let me help you," Newkirk said. Then, together, the two of them pushed with all their might, but couldn't budge the trapdoor. Sighing, wearily, both men sat on the ground. "We're stuck in here, mate," he told LeBeau. " And that miserable sod's got the Colonel in his sights."

It was then they both heard a tapping on the trapdoor from the outside. It was in code.

"It's Carter!" LeBeau exclaimed. He tapped out a reply on the wall and waited for a response. He didn't have long to wait.

"What're both of you saying?" asked an impatient Newkirk.

"Carter knows we're here," LeBeau explained. "I told him we're both okay but that Benson blocked the trapdoor somehow and that he was to tell Colonel Hogan."

Benson ran as fast as he could after blocking the trapdoor entrance, trapping Newkirk and LeBeau inside. Reaching the ladder leading to the barracks, he tucked the pistol into the back of his waistband. He now knew Hogan knew it was him and had set a plan in motion into tricking him to lead them to Newkirk. _It'll be the last thing you ever do, Colonel, _he told himself, climbing up the ladder. _I've had it with you and your interference! It ends now!_

Stepping up and into the barracks, Benson gathered himself and slapped the upper bedframe and watched the lower bunk drop over the tunnel entrance. Then, he looked around casually. "Where's Colonel Hogan?" he asked innocently.

"He and Kinch are in his quarters," one of the other men replied. Benson nodded and approached the door to Hogan's quarters. He knocked.

"Come in," Hogan replied.

Reaching behind him, Benson gripped the pistol and with his other hand, gripped the doorknob and turned it, opening the door. He spotted Kinch and Hogan, together at Hogan's desk.

"Hello, Benson," Hogan said, not surprised at seeing him.

"So, Colonel, you know it's me," Benson replied with a smirk. He pulled out his weapon and aimed it at both men. Benson stepped into Hogan's quarters and closed the door behind him, locking it from the inside. "That's to keep out any company." He waved the weapon at Kinch. "Move away, Sergeant," he ordered.

Kinch began to argue but stood his ground beside Hogan. But the Colonel looked at him. "Do as he says, Kinch," Hogan ordered.

"But, Colonel...."

"Kinch, don't argue with me. Just do what I say."

"Yes, sir," Kinch replied, his eyes never leaving Benson's face. He slowly moved away from Hogan's side.

"Now turn around, Sergeant," Benson ordered, the gun pointed at Kinch's head.

"No!" Hogan cried out, stunned. "Benson, don't! It's me you want, not Kinch!"

"I **said** turn around!"

Licking his dry lips, Kinch looked at the Colonel and then Benson. He did as he was instructed and closed his eyes, hoping what he suspected was going to happen, wasn't. Suddenly, he crumpled to the floor as Benson struck him from behind with the butt end of his weapon. Then, Benson turned his weapon on Hogan. "Now we can be alone, Colonel Hogan," he smirked. "You have become a real pain, Colonel."

"Where's Newkirk and LeBeau?"

"Oh, they're alive right now. But I'm afraid where I left them they won't be able to help you."

"There was a sudden knocking on Hogan's closed door. "Colonel, it's Carter. What've you got the door locked for?"

Benson waved his gun at Hogan, motioning for him to unlock the door and let Carter in. Hogan started at him. "No," he replied defiantely.

Benson cocked his weapon and aimed it at Kinch's head. "I don't think I heard you correctly, Colonel. What did you say?"

Hogan knew he had to buy some time. "All right," he said softly. "Just don't hurt Kinch. He hasn't done anything to you."

Benson uncocked his weapon and again pointed it at Hogan. "I thought I must've heard you incorrectly."

Hogan wheeled himself forward and unlocked the door of his quarters and opened it. Carter, standing in the doorway, spotted Benson with his weapon aimed at the Colonel. He then spotted Kinch's unconcious body on the floor. Carter looked at Hogan, fear in his eyes.

"Colonel, is Kinch....?"

"It's all right, Carter. Kinch is unconcious. Not dead."

Benson motioned Carter inside and ordered him to close the door. Carter did as he was told. Benson ordered Carter to turn around. Then, he did the same thing to him he did to Kinch. The young Sergeant collasped to the floor in a heap near Kinch.

"Now, Colonel Hogan, you and I are gonna leave the barracks very casually as if nothing's wrong. My gun will be aimed at your back. Try anything and you just might be crippled permanently."

"You won't get very far, Benson," Hogan smirked. "Somebody in this barracks will stop you before you even reach the door."

"Maybe. But I have the gun, Colonel. And should anybody try to stop me, I will not hesitate to shoot them and you. Understand?"

"I understand, you bastard," Hogan muttered.

"Good. Now let's go, shall we? I don't want to keep General Burkhalter waiting."


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

Hogan slowly wheeled himself out of his quarters and into the main area of the barracks. His eyes darted around the room, hoping in one way to get someone's attention. But on the other hand, he didn't want to attract anyone's attention because Benson was armed and would not hesitate to kill. As he reached forward and opened the door to the barracks, he came face-to-face with Wilson, carrying his bag.

"Colonel Hogan, just the man I was looking for," the camp medic said. "I need to examine your back and Kinch's hands. So if we could go into your office."

Hogan looked at Wilson. "Haven't time right now, Joe. I'm on my way to Klink's office. It's important. Come back later."

"Colonel, we go through this every time. But then, you wouldn't be you if you complied. Surely the Kommandant wouldn't mind waiting thirty minutes to an hour for you."

"Joe, please, I don't have the time right now. If I did, believe me, you could examine me to your heart's content. But I am in a hurry. As for Kinch, he's not here right now and I don't know where he is." As he spoke, Hogan motioned with his eyes towards Benson, hoping the medic would catch the hint.

Wilson sighed wearily. "Very well, Colonel. I'll wait here for you. When you return from Klink's office I will not be put off from examining your back. Agreed?"

"Fine. Whatever." Hogan pushed his wheelchair past Wilson with Benson close behind him.

"That was very wise of you, Colonel," Benson remarked. "I would've hated to shoot the only doctor this camp has. But one cannot pick who the casualties of war will be. As a former pilot you should know about that."

Wilson watched them leave. Sighing, he shook his head. Pouring himself a cup of coffee, he sat down when one of the other prisoners, Sergeant Harrelson, approached him.

"You looking for Sergeant Kinchloe, doc?" he asked.

"Yes. I need to examine his hands and change the dressing on them. Do you know where he is?"

"Yeah. He's in Colonel Hogan's quarters with Sergeant Carter."

Wilson's eyes narrowed. "That's odd. Colonel Hogan just said he didn't know where Kinch was. Why would he lie to me?"

Harrelson shrugged. "Have no idea, doc. Especially since they were all in his quarters a few minutes ago until he just left with Benson."

"Something's not right," Wilson replied, getting up. "Come with me." He told Harrelson. They headed towards Hogan's quarters. Wilson opened the door and both men froze upon seeing Carter and Kinch on the floor. Wilson ran towards Kinch and knelt down. He pressed two fingers against Kinch's neck and exhaled when he found a strong pulse. He looked up. "What about Carter?"

"He's alive, doc. Just seems to be knocked out is all."

"Go get my bag off the table outside."

Harrelson hurriedly left the room and returned shortly with the medical bag. He handed it to Wilson. Opening the bag, the medic rummaged through it until he found two small packets of smelling salts. He handed one to Harrelson. "Here. Break it open and wave it under Carter's nose. It's smelling salts." He then did the same and waved the other one under Kinch's nose. Kinch groaned and opened his eyes slowly. He rubbed the back of his head.

"What happened?" Kinch asked no-one in particular. "Where's Colonel Hogan?" He tried sitting up. His head ached like hell. He then noticed Wilson. "Hiya, doc."

"My head," muttered Carter, slowly sitting up with help from Harrelson. He rubbed the back of his head as well. "What happened?" He looked around, anxiously. "Where's Colonel Hogan? Where's Benson?"

Kinch looked around as well. "They're both gone, Carter." He looked at Wilson, frightened. "Joe, have you seen either the Colonel or Benson? It's important you tell me!"

"I just saw both of them leave the barracks a short time ago. The Colonel said something about having to see the Kommandant. Come to think of it, he was acting kind of strange."

"Strange? In what way?" asked Kinch, struggling to get to his feet.

"Well, I told him I needed to examine both you and him, and he brushed me off. Then, when I asked about you, he said he had no idea where you were."

Both Kinch and Carter looked at each other, frightened. "We have to find them," Kinch explained. "Benson's the traitor. If he's got Colonel Hogan, he plans on killing him and General Burkhalter. He's also responsible for Newkirk's disappearance."

"That reminds me," Carter chimed in. "That's why I came here to see the Colonel. Benson locked Newkirk and LeBeau in the cooler and has the trapdoor blocked with heavy boxes.I didn't have time to move them. I just came back to report to the Colonel and found Benson here holding a gun on him." He slowly got to his feet.

Kinch looked at Wilson and Harrelson. "You guys come with me," he said, hurrying towards the open door of Hogan's quarters. "We gotta free Newkirk and LeBeau and then try to find the Colonel. Carter, start looking for Benson and Colonel Hogan. And be careful. Benson's a killer."

"Killer?" asked Wilson, stunned. "Do you mean he's...."

"That's right, Joe," Kinch told him. "He's the one who set up that crossbow in the Colonel's quarters. Only it was meant for Hogan instead of Tucker."

With Kinch leading the way, Wilson and Harrelson followed him into the tunnel and hurried to the cooler area. Carter, meanwhile, hurried out of the barracks into the compound. The bright sunlight hurt his eyes, but that didn't matter right now. He caught a glimpse of Hogan and Benson heading up the wheelchair ramp and into Klink's office. Carter, running in the direction of the Kommandant's office, ducked behind the side of the building. He suddenly notice a large black car coming through the main gates. _Oh, boy, that must be Colonel Wasserman,_ Carter told himself._ Now what do I do?_

Benson pushed Hogan's wheelchair into Klink's office with out knocking or waiting for admittance. He closed the door behind him. Both Klink and Burkhalter stared at the two men in amazement.

"Hogaaaannnn! What is the meaning of this?" Klink demanded, rising from his chair.

"Kommandant," Hogan said softly. "If I were you, I'd have a seat and not cause any problems. My friend here is very nervous."

"I will not have a seat!" Klink said. "And both you and Corporal Benson will leave this office immediately or I will have you both thrown out!"

Benson, standing directly to the side of Hogan's wheelchair, pointed his gun at Klink. "I don't think so, Kommandant," he said smugly. "Now, I suggest you listen to Colonel Hogan and sit down."

Klink slowly sat back down in his chair. "What is the meaning of this, Corporal Benson?"

"Not Corporal Benson, Kommandant. My real name is Heidelman. Captain Frederick Heidelman, SS. My commanding officer is Colonel Rudolph Wasserman." Benson looked around at the seated and stunned Burkhalter. "You remember Colonel Wasserman, don't you General?"

"That incompetent fool!" Burkhalter yelled, jumping to his feet. He paused when Benson pointed his gun in his direction.

"I would sit back down slowly, General," Benson ordered. "See, I know you don't care what happens to Colonel Hogan here, and probably not even the Kommandant. But I do believe you care about your own miserable hide. So unless you want me to kill you before it's time, I suggest you sit down. **Now**!"

Burkhalter slowly sat back down. "You're the faceless one?" he asked quietly. "The same one who killed those other Luftwaffe officers?"

"The same, General."

"Just out of curiosity," Hogan interrupted. "Just where is the **real** Corporal Martin Benson?"

"He's dead. There couldn't very well be two Martin Bensons running around, now could there, Colonel Hogan?"

"I guess not," Hogan surmised. "Just what do you intend on doing with the three of us?"

"You, Colonel Hogan, and you, General Burkhalter, all both going for a little ride when Colonel Wasserman arrives which should be shortly. We'll dispose of Burkhalter outside the camp. But you, Colonel Hogan, will be coming with us."

"What for? What possible value could I have?"

"Colonel Wasserman will enjoy creatively questioning you about a great many things, if you know what I mean, Colonel. By the time he's finished with you, you'll pretty much be a vegetable. Your mind will be destroyed. "

Hogan nodded slowly, a look of amusement hiding his true feelings. "At least I won't be bored," he said. He looked at Klink. "What about the Kommandant here?"

Klink shuddered and looked at Hogan. "Hogan, don't help him make up his mind."

Benson smiled smugly. "He might prove to be a useful hostage. I'll let Colonel Wasserman decide his fate."

"That's very kind of you, Corporal Ben...I mean, Captain Heidelman."

Carter kept watch as the SS Colonel emerged from the car and headed up the stairs and into Klink's office. Suddenly, Carter was joined by Newkirk, Kinch and LeBeau.

"Hey, Newkirk," the young sergeant said excitedly. "Are you okay? Boy, am I glad to see you! How did you and LeBeau...."

Newkirk held up a hand. "Not now, Andrew. Later. Much later. Where's Colonel Hogan and that bloody bastard Benson?"

"They went into Klink's office a little while ago. I just saw an SS Colonel go in. It could be that Colonel Wasserman."

"What are we going to do?" asked LeBeau. "We have to get Colonel Hogan out of there before he gets hurt or worse."

"With that bloody bastard there is no getting hurt," Newkirk reminded him. "It's only the worse part with him."

"Well, one thing's for sure," said Kinch. "If one of us or all of us go barging in there, Benson's gonna start shooting. And my guess is Colonel Hogan will be the first one he shoots."

"Then what are we gonna do?" asked Carter, concerned.

"Carter, you still have those delayed action fuses you prepared when we were suppose to blow up that 'munitions train?" asked Kinch.

"Sure, but...."

"Get one. And be quick."

"What am I gonna do with it?"

"Just get it, Carter!" Kinch ordered.

"On my way." Carter ran as fast as he could back to the barracks and once inside, disappeared down the ladder and into the tunnel.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

The door to Klink's office suddenly opened, and in walked a tall, distinguished-looking man with salt-and-pepper hair with an eyepatch over his left eye. He also had a revolver strapped to his waist. He glared at Klink, Hogan, and especially Burkhalter. Seeing Benson, he smiled warmly. Benson came to attention immediately.

"Heil Hitler, Colonel Wasserman!" he said.

Wasserman raised a hand in greeting. "You have done well, Captain," he said. He studied Hogan curiously. "So....you must be Colonel Hogan," he remarked.

Hogan looked up at the Colonel with complete disregard. "You have to forgive me for not coming to attention, Colonel," he said with a smirk on his face.

The Colonel chuckled before slapping Hogan across the face with his hand. A trickle of blood ran from the corner of Hogan's mouth. "I don't like your attitude, Hogan," he said. "I shall enjoy teaching you respect."

Wiping the blood smear with the back of his hand, Hogan continued to look at the Colonel. "Good luck. I've been told I'm incorrigible."

The Colonel chuckled again, but did not strike Hogan this time. Instead, he turned his attention to Klink. "And you must be Colonel Wilhelm Klink, Kommandant of this garbage dump."

"Yes, Colonel Wasserman. I am....." Klink slowly started to stand with his hand outstretched. Wasserman stared at Klink's outstretched hand with distain.

"Did I ask for your greeting, Klink?"

"No, sir, you didn't." Klink withdrew his hand and slowly sat back down.

Lastly, Wasserman turned his attention to Burkhalter. He clasped his hands behind his back and smiled a cunning smile. "It's nice to see you again, General. Although you might not think so after I'm through with you."

Burkhalter swallowed nervously. "How are you, Wasserman?" he stuttered. "It's been a long time."

"Too long!" Wasserman bellowed, the smile now gone from his face. "I've waited several years for this moment, Burkhalter, and I want to savor every minute. You see, when you passed me over for that promotion years ago when I served under you in the Luftwaffe, I began to hate you. You have no idea how much."

Hogan turned his wheelchair around to face Wasserman and Burkhalter. "You mean to tell me all this hostility is over a promotion? " He smirked. "If it'd been me, I would've written to my Congressman."

Turning slightly to Hogan, Wasserman chuckled again. "Ah, yes, the famous Hogan wit I've heard so much about. That's something else I will have to rectify." Then, with all the strength he had, Wasserman backhanded Hogan so hard, the blow sent the Colonel's wheelchair toppling over, and Hogan spilling out onto the floor. Dazed, Hogan rubbed his cheek and looked up at Wasserman with daggers in his eyes. Wasserman stood over Hogan glaring down at him. "I don't much care for smart-mouth POWs, Hogan. Especially ones who think because they're in a wheelchair I'll have sympathy for them." He ran the bottom of one of his boots up and down Hogan's outstretched right leg. "Don't feel this, do you, Colonel?" he asked smugly. "A pity. I would have enjoyed hearing you scream when your legs were broken one at a time from extreme pressure being applied."

Hogan started to open his mouth to say something in response, but Klink, who had shuddered when Hogan's wheelchair toppled over, jumped up and came around to the front of his desk. "Hogan, I suggest you keep your mouth shut before you get into trouble." Klink stood the wheelchair upright and then with effort, picked up Hogan and deposited him back in the wheelchair. Hogan brushed off his bomber jacket and then reached down and dusted off his right pants leg. He glanced at Klink. "Before I get into trouble?" he asked. "Why didn't you stop me before I came in here?"

Wasserman had watched everything with amusement. "Very considerate of you, Klink. Helping your Senior POW officer like that. Too bad after we leave here, Colonel Hogan won't be needing his wheelchair anymore. A coffin will do quite nicely instead."

Hogan continued glaring at Wasserman. "You intend to kill me, Colonel?" he asked innocently. "That wouldn't be a very nice thing to do to a guest."

"Kill you? Is that what you think, Hogan? Heavens no. I don't intend to kill you. At least not right away. No. I intend to have you locked inside a coffin to see how long you can last without air and beg for mercy."

Hogan smirked. "You might have a long wait, Colonel."

Klink nervously chewed on a fingernail as he listened to Wasserman's plan for Hogan. He forced a nervous smile on his face. "Uh, Colonel, if I may ask a question?" He slowly stood up.

"What is it, Klink?"

"What will become of me, sir? I mean, what do you have planned for me?"

"Planned for you? Why nothing, Klink. You will simply be used as a hostage to get us out of this camp. And once we're safely away, I will then have you shot."

"I see." Klink swallowed the lump in his throat. "Just thought I'd ask." He sat down again.

Wasserman pulled his own pistol from it's holster and aimed it at Klink, who nearly fainted and swallowed hard. "Get up, Klink!" he yelled.

Klink slowly got to his feet. "But...but...Herr Colonel. I thought I wasn't to be shot until afterwards."

"Dummkopf! I'm not going to shoot you now, even though I should. No, I want you to push Colonel Hogan's wheelchair outside. My car is parked outside your office. You will then help Colonel Hogan into my car and General Burkhalter will sit next to him with you in-between them. Captain Heidelman will be beside me in the front seat with a gun trained on all of you. Do you understand, Klink?"

"Yes, sir." Klink slowly stepped from behind his desk and approached Hogan. "I'm sorry, Hogan," was all he could say.

"You're sorry...." Hogan muttered, feeling his tender cheek where he'd been struck. "Try being on the receiving end."

Benson, pointing his weapon at Burkhalter, motioned for him to get to his feet. The General slowly stood up. "Turn around, General," he ordered. Burkhalter complied. Benson then accepted a pair of handcuffs from Wasserman and clamped them shut on Burkhalter's pudgy wrists, making them extremely uncomfortable. He then spun the General around. "That's so you'll cause no trouble until it's time for your execution, General. Shall we?" He waved his weapon towards the door to Klink's office and opened it.

"Hurry up, Carter!" Kinch yelled to the young Sergeant who was under Wasserman's car strapping the detonation device to the gas tank. He set the timer for five minutes before hurriedly crawling out from under the car and rejoining the others behind the building.

"I set the timer for five minutes like you asked," Carter said, confused somewhat. "But just what are we doing?"

"I'm hoping by blowing up Wasserman's car it'll slow him down just a bit. We can't allow him to leave camp with Colonel Hogan." Then, Kinch caught his breath. "Oh boy," he muttered, looking.

As the others watched, the door to Klink's outter office opened and they watched Hogan being wheeled out by Klink with Burkhalter following them, his arms behind him. Wasserman and Benson, weapons drawn, followed. They all stood on the porch of Klink's office. Hogan shifted his eyes just a bit, and spotted his men peeking out from behind the building. He saw Kinch point to his watch and hold up five fingers. He nodded slightly.

"Look, Colonel," Hogan addressed Wasserman, "Why can't we all sit down in the Kommandant's office and discuss this like civilized adults?"

"Why you ask, Colonel Hogan?" asked Wasserman. "I'll tell you why. It's too late for Burkhalter to make amends now."

"But surely,Wasserman," Burkhalter nervously said. "Listen to Hogan. We can discuss this. There's no need for bloodshed."

Wasserman pressed his weapon against Burkhalter's temple. "Once I'm rid of you I'll have all the satisfaction I want. With your death, I will take over the Luftwaffe and be in charge."

"Is that all you want, Colonel?" asked Hogan nonchalantly. "Why didn't you say so? I'm sure General Burkhalter can arrange something. Right General?"

Burkhalter was sweating profusely. He licked his dry lips. "Hogan's right. Anything you want, Wasserman. You want to be in charge of the Luftwaffe? I'll step down and it's yours."

Wasserman smirked. "You'll step down until I lower my guard and then you'll either have me arrested or shot. No General, it's better this way."

Hogan sighed. "What if the General promises there will be no retaliation on his part?"

Wasserman smirked. He put the barrel of his weapon directly under Hogan's jaw and elevated his head until he could look directly into his eyes. "You keep interferring, Hogan, and you won't live long enough for me to question you."

"Just trying to be helpful," Hogan replied. "Uh, Colonel, just one more thing before I shut up."

"And what would that be?"

"Well, I suggest you might want to put your fingers in your ears."

Wasserman appeared confused by Hogan's statement. "And why should I want to do that?"

"Well, " said Hogan. "The next sound you hear could be very loud."

Before Wasserman could reply, there was a tremendous explosion that knocked everyone off their feet. Hogan gripped the open doorway of the building to keep his wheelchair from tipping over as he watched the remainder of what he believed to be Wasserman's staff car totally engulfed in flames.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

As Wasserman, Klink and Burkhalter all lay dazed on Klink's porch, Carter suddenly bolted from his hiding place towards the group.

"Carter, no!" yelled Newkirk as he and the others could only watch.

Reaching for the pistol Wasserman had dropped when the car exploded, Carter and a still dazed Wasserman both reached for the weapon. But because of his somewhat dazed condition, Carter was able to grab it a minute before Wasserman's fingers reached it. He aimed the weapon at the SS Colonel, his finger on the trigger, and a look of hatred on his face. "I ought to shoot you where you are,Colonel," he said. "You want to hurt Colonel Hogan and I can't allow that to happen." His finger tightened on the trigger.

"Carter! No!" Hogan suddenly yelled. "Don't do it!"

Carter's eyes shifted momentarily to Hogan. A childlike appearance appeared on his face. "He wants to kill you, sir," he said. "If he gets you out of this camp, there's no telling what'll happen to you. You might never come back."

Hogan stared at the young Sergeant. "Carter, listen to me. If you kill him, that makes you no different than him."

"Listen to the Colonel, Carter," said Kinch as he, Newkirk and LeBeau stepped out from behind the building and into view. "Has Colonel Hogan ever lied to you before?"

"No."

Wasserman glared at Carter, an evil look on his face. "You better kill me, boy!" he cackled. "Because if you don't, your Colonel Hogan is mine! And you're right. You won't see him again....not in his right mind anyway. Maybe not even alive. Depends on how he holds up under my creative questioning techniques."

Hogan could see Carter's gun hand starting to shake. "Carter, listen to me. He's trying to goad you into doing something you don't want to do. Don't listen to him."

"He's evil, Colonel," Carter muttered. "I can't let him hurt you or worse."

"He won't, Carter. Believe me. I won't let him."

"The Colonel's right, Andrew," Newkirk replied approaching Carter from behind. "Besides, you know the Gov'nor. He's a survivor." Reaching the young Sergeant, Carter allowed Newkirk to take the weapon out of his hands. Newkirk drapped an arm around the young sergeant's shoulders while pointing the weapon at Wasserman. "While I meself have no qualms as far as putting a hole between your Kraut eyes."

Wasserman sneered at the Englander. "You think you can save your Colonel, Englishman? You haven't got the nerve!"

Newkirk pulled the trigger. The bullet hit the side of Klink's office near Wasserman's head. The Englander smiled. "What were you saying about not having nerve, you bastard?" he asked smugly.

Wasserman glared at Newkirk.

Suddenly, Benson jumped to his feet and wrapped an arm tightly around Hogan's neck, pulling him close against him. The gun in his other hand was pressed against the Colonel's temple. "I suggest you drop your weapon, Newkirk," he announced. "Or I'll put a bullet in his head right now."

"Don't listen to him, Newkirk," Hogan said, looking at Newkirk. "He needs me alive."

Newkirk looked at Hogan and then Benson. He swallowed hard. He heard Benson cock his weapon. "I'm sorry, Colonel," he apologized to Hogan. "But I can't take that chance." He let the weapon slip from his fingers.

Wasserman smirked. "I knew you were weak, Englishman," he replied. He turned to Hogan. "Your men will come with us, Hogan. They can watch me use my creative methods on you. That way they'll know what they have to look forward to."

Hogan glared at the SS Colonel. Then, as a last ditch effort to take control of the situation, Hogan lowered his head slightly and bit into the arm Benson had around his neck as hard as he could. He felt the arm loosen just enough as Benson cried out in pain. Hogan reached and gripped the gun arm and the two men struggled over the weapon. As the wheelchair slid back and forth , one wheel of the wheelchair suddenly fell off the ramp causing the entire wheelchair to hit the ground with Benson on top of Hogan who had fallen out of the wheelchair to the ground. A muffled gunshot was heard.

Time stood still for what seemed like an eternity as nobody moved.

Benson slowly got to his feet, the gun still in his hand. There was blood on his shirt. He looked down at Hogan who was still lying on the ground , also with blood on his shirt. Hogan looked at the blood and then at Benson who was smiling. Then, Benson slowly crumpled to the ground and fell near Hogan. The Colonel dragged himself over to the Corporal and pressed two fingers against his neck. After a minute, he looked up at his men and shook his head. Carter, LeBeau, Newkirk and Kinch all ran to Hogan and knelt beside him, concerned.

Wasserman, sensing everything was slipping away, made a sudden dash for the weapon Newkirk had dropped. Hogan saw him out of the corner of his eye and lunged for the weapon Benson had dropped which lay near his outstretched arm. Hogan took careful aim and fired just as Wasserman's fingers closed around the pistol. He fell to the ground. Hogan bent his head with exhaustion. He handed his weapon to Newkirk with a tired grin. "I'm getting too old for this," he murmurmed. Then, they all heard the sound of a gun being cocked.

Hogan looked up while Newkirk, LeBeau, Kinch and Carter all looked around. Wasserman, holding a hand to the bleeding wound in his chest, was staggering to his feet, gun in hand. He aimed his weapon at Hogan's head.

"I may not have Burkhalter," he muttered through clenched teeth, " But I will have some measure of satisfaction by killing you, Hogan." His finger tightened on the trigger. Hogan and his men froze in expectation of what was to come. Hogan braced himself for the end of his life. Then, a small miracle happened.

Blood dripped from Wasserman's mouth and the gun slipped from his fingers. He dropped to his knees before finally falling sideways on the ground, dead. Newkirk slid over and pressed two fingers against the SS Colonel's neck. Looking at Hogan, he shook his head.

Hogan lowered his head and let out a deep sigh of relief. Looking up again, he spied Klink hiding in the far corner of the open doorway, and Burkhalter lying on his side having watched the events unfold.

"Newkirk, search Wasserman's pockets and find the keys to the handcuffs and release Burkhalter," he said.

"Right, Gov'nor," Newkirk replied.

Hogan then looked at his other men. "Help me back into my wheelchair," he said. Then he added. "Carter, I think you better get Wilson."

"Right away, Colonel," Carter replied, hurrying away to find the medic.

"Mon Colonel," said LeBeau, concerned. "Are you injured?"

Hogan didn't respond as he watched Kinch wheel his chair over nor as Kinch and LeBeau both helped him into the wheelchair. He again looked at the blood on the front of his shirt. He looked around as he felt a hand on his shoulder and saw the worried eyes of LeBeau.

"Colonel, are you hurt?" the Frenchman repeated his question.

"I can't answer you right now, LeBeau," Hogan replied softly. "Not until after I've seen Wilson."

"Colonel Hogan!" the voice was Burkhalter's. Hogan and his men looked as Burkhalter and Klink approached.

Hogan knew he was in deep trouble as he had killed a German officer regardless of the circumstances involved, and guessed he would probably either be shot or hanged for his offense. He was prepared. But, he would try hard to keep his men from suffering his fate, if he could. No sense in them dying with him. "Yes, General?" he asked quietly.

"Hogan, you saved my life and I am grateful. Anything you want, just name it and it's yours."

Hogan and his men were stunned. "But I killed a German officer, sir," he said. "I realize the punishment for that is death."

Burkhalter waved his hand and shook his head. "Normally it is, Hogan. But in this instance, you had no choice. Wasserman was an enemy of the Fatherland and would have paid with his life anyway. Him and Captain Heidelman both. Now, what do you want? Name it and it's yours."

Hogan looked at both Kinch and LeBeau. The Frenchman whispered something in Hogan's ear.

"General, Corporal LeBeau has a request and so do I."

Burkhalter looked at LeBeau. "What is your request, Corporal LeBeau?"

"Well, sir...." LeBeau began slowly. "We heard that after one year, if there's no improvement in Colonel Hogan's condition you ordered the Kommandant to send him away...."

Burkhalter held up a hand as a faint smile appeared. "Granted, Corporal. Colonel Hogan will remain at Stalag 13 and I will rescind my order to Klink. Now, Hogan, you said you had a request as well?"

"Yes, General. I request that any past transgressions by my men and I as a result of this matter be overlooked, and any pending charges as a result of those trangressions be dropped. And, that this entire matter never be spoken of again."

"Denied!" chimed in Klink vehemently.

"Granted!" Burkhalter replied, staring at Klink who seemed to shrivel under the General's stare.

Hogan smiled weakly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, General, Kommandant, I must retire to my quarters and await a visit from our camp medical officer. Kinch, LeBeau, Newkirk, shall we go?"

Newkirk began pushing Hogan's wheelchair towards the barracks when Klink suddenly called out. Newkirk, rolling his eyes, turned his Colonel's wheelchair around.

"You called my name, Kommandant?"

"Yes, Hogan. Two things."

Hogan sighed wearily. He clasped his hands in his lap. "And what would they be?"

"One, how did know Wasserman's car was going to explode before it did?"

Burkhalter looked curiously at Hogan. "I'd like to know the answer to that as well, Hogan," he said.

Hogan shook his head before looking at Klink, an amused grin on his face. "C'mon, Kommandant. Use your head. Didn't you hear Wasserman say he would dispose of the General outside of camp? He probably had the bomb already in his car. My guess it was attached to the gas tank. He probably had another car waiting for him somewhere and was gonna leave the General locked inside the car with the bomb."

Burkhalter looked at Klink. "How come you didn't know that, Klink? Dummkopf! Wasserman did say that in your office! "

"Well...." Klink stuttered.

"And what was the other thing, Kommandant? You said there were two things?"

"What was the Colonel talking about when he said he wanted to vigorously interrogate you? What have you been up to, Hogan?"

"Nothing, Kommandant. It was probably just more of the same unsubstantiated garbage Hochstetter's been accusing me of for a long time. And that is I'm suppose to be involved with the underground and I'm a saboteur. You know. The usual garbage."

"I don't know, Hogan," muttered Burkhalter, curiously. "Wasserman did sound like he had something definite on you."

Hogan offered one of his famous smirks. "So did Hochstetter, General. Besides, you going to believe the rantings of an obviously deranged man?"

Bristling at the mentioning of the Gestapo Major's name, Burkhalter turned to Klink. "Klink, this entire matter is over and will never be discussed again. Ever! And as far as Wasserman's accusations against Colonel Hogan go, it was as Hogan says, just more unsubstantiated garbage of an obviously deranged madman. Understood?"

Klink swallowed nervously. "Yes, General Burkhalter," he said in a small voice.

Burkhalter suddenly smiled. "Now, Klink, I think I'll have a glass of your schnapps to settle my nerves before I return home."

Klink forced a nervous smile on his face. "Leaving us so soon, General Burkhalter?" he said.

"Klink, I don't want to stay here with you any more than you want me to stay here with you. So just shut up and let's have that drink."

Hogan, LeBeau, Newkirk and Kinch watched the two men walk across the compound and head towards Klink's office. Then, Hogan looked at Newkirk. "Let's go. I don't want to keep Wilson waiting. He's difficult enough when things are dull around here."

"Righto, Colonel," Newkirk replied pushing the wheelchair with LeBeau and Kinch walking beside them.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

Burkhalter smacked his lips after downing a second glass of schnapps. Klink, seated at his desk, was still sipping his first glass. Secretly, he couldn't wait for Burkhalter to leave Stalag 13. While admitting that having to deal with Hogan daily was bad enough, but having endured a week of Burkhalter was more than he could take. Burkhalter, stretching out his legs, let a relaxed smile cross his face.

"Klink, I need to discuss your security here in Stalag 13. Or should I say your lack of security."

Klink looked up. "Sir?"

"Do you realize not one of your guards came to my assistance during that event on your porch outside. Not one!"

"But General, nothing happened to you while you were here in the most secure prison camp in Germany." He pointed out, forcing a slight smile to appear.

"And what good is that if you have to rely on the prisoners to save your life?" Burkhalter put his empty glass on Klink's desk. His eyes narrowed. "Do you have any idea how it galls me to be grateful to that insufferable Colonel Hogan?"

Klink didn't respond.

Burkhalter, leaning forward, slammed his hand on the corner of the desk. "I'll **tell** you how it feels! I don't like it one bit, Klink! Not one bit!" He then leaned back in his chair, a devious smile appearing. "However, a promise is a promise, Klink. And for now I will stand by it. But I will be watching Hogan from now on." His eyes narrowed again. "....and I'll be watching you too, Klink."

"But why, Herr General? What did I do?"

"Nothing! That's just the problem! When I come here again on my routine inspection of Stalag 13, I expect you will have your guards in top shape so that should the situation arise, one won't have to rely on prisoners for help! Understand?"

"Yes, General Burkhalter."

"See that you do, Klink. Now, I will take my leave of you."

LeBeau, Carter, Kinch and Newkirk were all seated at the table looking at the closed door to Hogan's quarters. Newkirk was puffing on a cigarette while Kinch and Carter sipped at coffee.

"What do you suppose is going on in there?" asked Newkirk nervously.

"I wish I knew," Kinch replied softly. "Wilson's been in there for over two hours with the Colonel." He looked at LeBeau. "Are you sure the Colonel wasn't injured, LeBeau?"

The Frenchman shrugged. "Not that I could tell. I mean, other than the blood on his shirt which wasn't even his, there didn't seem to be anything that I could see."

"Of course he did take a tumble off the wheelchair ramp outside Klink's office while struggling with Benson. And then Benson fell on top of him," Carter reminded them. "Maybe he hurt himself when his wheelchair fell off the ramp and he landed on the ground."

"I just hope he didn't do any further damage to his spine," Kinch remarked, concerned. "If he did, there's no telling what that setback could mean to his recovery."

Just then, the door to Hogan's quarters opened. Hogan wheeled himself out into the main room with Wilson following behind him, carrying his bag. His face showed no expression. Hogan wheeled himself up to the table.

"Any coffee left?" he asked no-one in particular.

"Oui, mon Colonel," said LeBeau, getting up. He grabbed Hogan's cup and filled it with hot coffee. He handed it to the Colonel who gratefully took it and took a sip. He leaned back in his wheelchair, a faint smile on his face.

There was a look of confusion and worry on the faces of the men. Finally, unable to stand the suspense any longer, Newkirk spoke up.

"Well, somebody better tell us what the bloody hell went on in the Gov'nor's quarters before one of us loses his ruddy mind."

"Colonel?" Wilson looked at Hogan, a blank expression on his face. "You want to tell them or you want me to."

Hogan sighed as he continued sipping his coffee. "Maybe it'll sound better if you tell them," he said solemnly.

"Tell us what, Colonel?" asked Kinch, concern on his face. "Did something happen?"

"Colonel, you can tell us the truth," LeBeau said, concerned. "If the news is bad, we're here for you."

"That's right, Colonel," added Newkirk. "You won't have to go through it alone, sir."

"We'll be right here, boy. I mean Colonel," Carter chimed in.

Hogan glanced over his shoulder at the medic. "Do you think we've totured them long enough, Joe?" he asked, a small grin starting to form.

"I think so, Colonel." Wilson sat down at the table.

The men all exchanged confused looks.

"Just what's going on?" asked Kinch.

"I examined Colonel Hogan in his quarters as you are aware," Wilson began. "And apparently there was no further damage done to his back from the fall he took off Klink's porch."

There was a collective sigh of relief from the men.

"But that's not the most important thing," Wilson continued with a grin appearing. "Colonel Hogan's legs showed a slight reaction to the stimulus test I gave him."

The men all exchanged looks, not sure exactly what was being explained.

"What are you actually saying, Joe?" asked Kinch.

"What he's saying, Kinch," Hogan explained. "Is that I show slight signs of regaining the feeling in my legs. Joe believes that with time I might be able to walk again."

"Are you sure, mon Colonel?" asked LeBeau, hopefully.

"Well, I'm still a long way from getting out of this chair. But, the indications are that my legs have begun to get some feeling back in them. So, yes, LeBeau, I do have hope that eventually I will be able to walk again." Hogan looked at his men. "That is why I had Carter get Wilson after everything was over. When I fell out of my wheelchair during the struggle with Benson, I felt something in my legs." He held up a hand stopping any questions. "Don't ask me what did I feel because I can't explain it. I even doubt that I could. But there was something and I needed Joe to make sure what was happening before I said anything. That was why I couldn't answer your question, LeBeau, when you asked me if I had been injured."

LeBeau gripped Hogan's hand, a smile on his face. "That is wonderful news, mon Colonel," he said.

"What do you mean, wonderful news?" asked Newkirk. "It's bloody smashing news, Gov'nor."

Kinch patted Hogan's shoulder. "We're happy for you, Colonel," he said. "We all know how difficult it's been for you since the accident."

Hogan sighed wearily. "Thanks. And I thank all of you for what you did out there in the compound. If you hadn't slowed down Wasserman by blowing up his car, he might have taken me, Burkhalter and Klink out of this camp. And Burkhalter and Klink would have been killed, and I probably would have become Wasserman's lab experiment."

Kinch looked at his hands for a brief moment. "If blowing up Wasserman's car didn't work, Colonel, we would have tried something else. There was no way we were going to let that bastard remove you from this camp."

Hogan suddenly looked at the strangely silent Carter. "Something wrong, Carter?" he asked. "You've been awfully quiet."

Carter looked at the others before letting his eyes settle on his commanding officer. "Don't get me wrong, Colonel. I'm thrilled you're gonna be able to walk again some day. I really am. It's just....." he paused.

"Just what, Andrew?" asked Newkirk.

"It's just that I wanted to kill Wasserman, Newkirk. I've never killed anybody before. But, if I was the only one who could stop him from hurting Colonel Hogan, I would have pulled the trigger. What does that say about me?" Carter looked at Newkirk, confused.

Newkirk rested a hand on Carter's shoulder. He could sense the torment the younger man was experiencing. "Carter, what that says about you is that you would have done whatever you had to in order to protect the Colonel if you were the only one who could. I think that speaks very highly of you."

"Oui, Newkirk is right," added LeBeau. "You are not a killer, Carter. But you were ready to defend someone who is important to all of us."

"They're right, Andrew," Kinch replied. "You were amazing out there. You could have fired when Wasserman goaded you, but you didn't. That shows the difference between you and him. He would've killed the Colonel without even a thought. But you didn't pull the trigger even when he tried to get you to."

Hogan leaned forward and put a hand on Carter's arm. He glanced at the others. "Guys, can you leave us alone for a moment. I think Carter and I need to have a little talk."

The others got up and left the table. Wilson picked up his bag and left the barracks promising to return later in the evening to have a look at Kinch's hands.

"Carter, look at me," Hogan said softly. The young Sergeant looked at him. Hogan could see the torment in Carter's eyes.

"Carter, I was very proud of you and what you did out there in the compound today. You risked your life to try and save mine by keeping Wasserman at bay. If he had managed to get me out of this camp, I'm sure I would have been dead along with Klink and Burkhalter. So, you saved three lives. The fact that you wanted to kill him but didn't doesn't speak ill of you in any way. It simply shows you have values that he didn't. He would've killed without a second thought. You, on the other hand, and I'm sure about this, would not have pulled that trigger unless there was no other way to stop him."

"But I wanted to kill him, Colonel. I really wanted to kill him."

"I know, Carter. I know. But you have to remember that nobody knows to what lengths they'd go until they've been pushed to their limits. But also keep in mind that I'm very proud of you regardless even if you couldn't pull that trigger. Proud you're my friend and proud to have you on my team."

Carter smiled causing Hogan to relax a bit when he saw Carter's boyish smile. "Thanks, Colonel. What you just said goes double for me, boy. I mean sir."

Hogan found himself chuckling. "Carter," he said with a smile."You are a real gem."

Hogan leaned back in his wheelchair in Klink's office with a glass of schnapps in one hand, and one of Klink's cigars in the other. He faced Klink who was staring at his glass of schnapps, a frown on his face.

"Smile, Kommandant," Hogan remarked. "you should be happy now."

"Humph," Klink muttered. "What have I got to smile about?"

"Well, for one...." Hogan took a sip of schnapps. "...Burkhalter's gone back to Berlin. Wasserman and Heidelman are both dead. You and I are both alive...." he paused to give Klink a chance to respond.

"Other than Burkhalter leaving and you and I being alive, what else is there for me to smile about, Hogan?"

"What's troubling you, Kommandant?" Hogan was now concerned.

Klink looked at the American facing him. Here was Hogan, confined to a wheelchair, possibly for life, and he was still fighting. Not allowing anything to get him down for long when he surely had a reason to. And while he, Wilhelm Klink, was wallowing in self-pity. A smile managed to creep onto his face.

"You know, Hogan, you're right. I am very lucky indeed. I mean, if you, confined to a wheelchair as you are, can adapt and not let anything get you down, why can't I live with the hand I've been given in life."

Hogan took a puff on the cigar. "Before I forget, Kommandant. I think you'll be pleased to hear that Wilson believes I will walk again in time. He examined me after the incident and there was a slight feeling in my legs."

"Hogan, that's wonderful news!" Klink said, sincerely. Reaching forward, he held up his glass. Hogan leaned forward with his and they clinked glasses. Each of them took a sip. Hogan then leaned back in his chair. "Of course, it'll take some time before I can walk again. But there is now hope."

"But still that is good news."

"Yes, it is...." Hogan paused as a shadow overcame his face. He looked at Klink. "Kommandant, I need to ask you a question and I hope you'll give me a direct answer."

"What is it, Hogan?"

"When Wasserman struck me and toppled my wheelchair and I landed on the floor, you immediately came to my aid. Why did you do that? I somehow get the feeling this was not the first time something like that has happened."

Klink got up from his seat and stood in front of the open window, looking out, hands clasped behind his back. He appeared, at least to Hogan, lost in thought.

"Kommandant? You all right?"

Sighing, Klink turned and faced Hogan. "Hogan, what I have to tell you stays between us. Understand?"

"If that's the way you want it."

"That's the way I want it," Klink replied, sitting down again. Hogan waited.

"Hogan, I had a younger sister named Cassandra."

Hogan raised an eyebrow. He had never heard Klink discuss his family, much less that he had a sister.

"Is she alive?" he asked.

Klink sighed. "No. She was seventeen when she died. I was ten years older than her. She uh...." he paused for a long moment. "She was in a car accident and was paralyzed below the waist as you are. She was such a vibrant, beautiful girl, Hogan. She loved everybody and everything. She could never see bad in anybody. Cassie believed there was good in everybody. In fact, she even tried to help people despite her handicap."

Klink paused again as he downed his schnapps and quickly poured another glass. Hogan declined a refill.

"One day, she went out alone to go to the movies as she always did on Saturday, when she was accosted by some teenage boys who thought it would be fun to harrass a young girl in a wheelchair."

Hogan closed his eyes for a moment at the images running through his mind at what Klink was telling him. Opening them again, he looked at the Kommandant who appeared to be reliving the actual incident.

"Of course we found all this out from the police after she had failed to return home. It seems one of the boys thought it would be fun to topple her wheelchair because he and his friends thought she might be faking her injury. She screamed and they dragged her into an alley and beat her mercilessly and stomped on her legs, breaking one of them. Nobody came to her aid when she screamed nor as she lay there in that alley. She died there during the night, and was found the next day."

"I'm sorry," Hogan replied sincerely. "Did they ever catch those responsible?"

"Thank you, Hogan. No. There was no description to go by. Nobody wanted to get involved. So there was never an arrest made to this day." Klink looked at Hogan. "That was why I just couldn't sit by after Wasserman had struck you causing your wheelchair to topple over and then run his foot up and down your leg like he did. It reminded me of what Cassie might have gone through before she died."

Hogan thought with this admission that he understood Klink a bit more than before. He knew it took a great deal of courage on Klink's part to reveal that part of himself he obviously had taken great pains to hide from everyone. Slowly, Hogan picked up Klink's decanter and poured himself another glass and refilled Klink's glass. Hogan raised his glass.

"To Cassandra," he said with a faint smile.

Klink, touched, let a faint smile appear on his face. "To Cassandra," he echoed, raising his glass as well.

He and Hogan then clinked glasses in a toast to the young woman one man would never know, and the other would never forget.


End file.
